Since You Been Gone
by RFLupin
Summary: To every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. almost AU, BWOC UPDATE: 8.24.08, ch 16, complete
1. Prelude

**Title:** Since You Been Gone

**Author:** R. F. Lupin

**Rating:** PG-13, soft R

**Warnings:** sex, bad language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing.

**Summary: **After coming home on holiday, Bill meets the son he never knew he had, and learns that with every choice, there are twice as many consequences. almost AU, BWOC

**A/N:** So I needed a modern story to compliment my Titanic one, and this is what I came up with. It doesn't have anything to do with the Kelly Clarkson song; I just stole the title.

Reviews are love.

* * *

_Chapter 1 – Prelude_

"And here's the man of the hour now!"

Bill Weasley was beginning to understand why people liked being famous.

His younger brother Charlie had thrown him a going away party at one of the hottest nightclubs in town, and now he was the center of attention. Everyone was excited to hear about his new job as a Curse Breaker in Egypt, and he was only too happy to explain that it was just as cool as it sounded.

"There's my Billy!" said Ava, the georgous dancer who had become his shadow that evening. She had informed Bill that she was next in line for the principal spot in the London Ballet Company, and they had been inseparable ever since.

"I prefer Bill," he said coolly, looping his arm around her waist all the same.

Charlie rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything rude because at that point, his lady friend came back from the bar carrying drinks for all of them. The woman Charlie had been hanging around all night was skinny, blonde, and as far as Bill could tell, devoid of any skills worth mentioning.

Bill accepted a glass from the blonde and handed one to Ava, who waved it away.

"No thanks," she said. "But you go ahead. Drunk people are hilarious."

"All right," he said, eyebrow arched. "Just don't let me embarrass myself too much. I'd like to escape tonight with my reputation intact."

Ava laid her head on his shoulder.

"What reputation?" she asked coyly.

"That I am one of those devilishly charming men who makes women swoon," Bill replied, taking a swig. "It'll be hard to do that if I'm slurring my words and tripping over my feet."

Charlie snorted loudly, no doubt inhaling some of his drink, and said with a laugh,

"You, devilishly charming? When did this happen?"

"Around the same time you were getting your nappy changed," Bill snapped, and his brother quieted.

The music in the background changed to something much faster, and Ava perked up.

"So, Bill," she began, and he eyed her critically. "Are you drunk enough to dance?"

Throwing his usual caution to the wind, the oldest Weasley downed the rest of his ale and said,

"I am now."

Ava led him out on to the dance floor, and was immediately moving with the music. Bill figured that she would be good, considering she was a professional dancer and all, but it didn't really strike him until he was out there in the midst of everyone else. Awkwardly, he put his hands on her hips and tried to keep up.

"Not exactly God's gift to dancers, are we?" Ava said slyly, looping her arms around his neck, her hips still swaying in time with the beat.

"No. Not at this kind of dancing, anyway," Bill obliged, wrapping his arms around Ava's waist.

"What kind of dancing, then?" she asked, toying idly with his hair.

"The horizontal tango," he said, and Ava did the smallest of double takes before she burst out laughing.

"Did you . . did you just say that? I mean, did you actually _say_ the phrase, 'horizontal tango'?" she managed to choke out, somehow managing to keep dancing despite her crippling laughter. Bill indulged in a small smile before he said,

"Yeah, I did."

Ava's eyes were welling up with tears, she was laughing so hard, but she kept moving.

"What? You don't believe me?" Bill said, pulling her close and running his hand down her back. Their mood had gone from amused to aroused rather quickly, and neither one of them was keen on changing it. "Because I could prove it."

"Really?" she challenged, eyes bright with mischief. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"If I need to explain _that_ process," he began, his hand resting on the exposed skin of her hip as he traced small circles there with his thumb. "Then I'm afraid you're too young to know."

"I'm not too young," she whispered slyly, leaving a trail of tantalizing kisses down his neck. "Prove it."

* * *

Bill left for Egypt a few days after his party. He left thinking that only his immediate family would miss him, and that nothing he had done that night would come back to bite him in the ass. 

He was wrong. Very, very wrong.


	2. Brief Meeting

**Warnings:** mild language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing.

**A/N:** I turned 18 last week, and I'm graduating from high school in a few days, so while I won't be updating very much until then, I should have a lot of time over the summer to get back into a writing mood.

Reviews are love.

* * *

_Chapter 2 – Brief Meeting_

About four years later, Bill found himself strolling down Diagon Alley with his younger brother Charlie, trying to catch up on everything that had happened in the years since they'd gone their separate ways. They were both in town for the Quidditch World Cup, which they would be attending with their family and a few random family friends. It wasn't often that they spoke anymore, working in two different countries, so it was nice to have some time to compare learning experiences . . . or horror stories, depending on how charitable they were feeling towards their employers.

"So how're you going to break it to mum?" Charlie was saying. He was referring to the tattoo Bill had gotten a few days ago: an armband of the One Ring script from _The Lord of the Rings_. "She's already gone spare about the earring."

"That's only because I got it when I was piss-drunk," Bill replied. "And I'm not telling her about the tattoo until later. I packed a bunch of long-sleeved shirts, so she won't have to know until the day before I leave. That way, she can't do anything about it."

"That's what you think," Charlie said with a laugh. He gestured across the street then and said, "Let's go over to Fortescue's. I need food."

Bill rolled his eyes, but obliged, saying,

"You're never too old for ice cream."

"Or fart jokes," Charlie added, and Bill grimaced. His younger brother's decided lack of tact was embarrassing.

A few minutes later, they were both lounging in front of the ice cream parlor, trying not to look entirely out of place. Bill's long hair and fang earring coupled with Charlie's sheer size made this rather difficult. They stuck out from the rest of the ice cream customers, most of who were under the age of five, like a pair of sore thumbs.

Bill took advantage of Charlie's preoccupation with the ice cream cone to sit back and watch the people around him. He liked to do this, because watching people interact was very interesting to him. He knew a lot of the people, having grown up here, and would occasionally wave or say hello, but mostly he just watched.

Here was a busy businessman, head down and completely absorbed in his newspaper, barreling through the crowd and barely managing to avoid collisions with the dustbins.

And over there was a group of school-aged kids, all clustered around the storefront of Quality Quidditch Supplies, ogling the new Firebolt. (Charlie had tried to drag him over there earlier, but as Bill had always been more coordinated with both feet firmly on the ground, he had blatantly refused.)

And at the table next to him sat a pretty brown haired woman, still dressed in what looked like work robes, breezing through the latest edition of _Witch Weekly_ while she slowly made her way through a sundae.

She looked strangely familiar; Bill was sure he had met her before, but he couldn't for the life of him remember _where_.

"Charlie, who's that at the table next to us?" he asked his brother, who was a walking reference book for people. The younger Weasley turned around, looked at the woman and shrugged.

"I don't know her name, but she's got a kid who's about three," he replied.

"So she's married?" Bill prompted. Charlie shook his head, managing to smear ice cream across his chin as he did so.

"Nope," he said. "The bastard ran out on her, as far as anyone knows."

"What a jackass," Bill said.

Just then, a little boy came running up the table next to them and started bouncing up and down at the woman's side. She looked down at him and smiled as she scooped him up into her arms, planting a kiss on the top of his auburn head.

"Did you pay Mr. Fortescue for mummy?" she asked. The boy nodded happily, and replied,

"Uh huh. I gived him . . . this many monies." After pulling a look of immense concentration, he held up five fingers.

"Good. Now let's get ready to go, mummy has to get home so she can get ready for work." The woman stood up, still holding the little boy, and tried to heave the large bag that had been sitting at her feet over her shoulder, but the seam on the strap split and sent it flying. The contents spilled out, and the bag landed near Bill's foot, so he stooped down to collect it as the woman uttered a mild obscenity that she hoped her child wouldn't hear.

"Here you go miss," Bill said, handing the bag to her and stooping again to collect the quills and parchment scraps that had emancipated themselves. The woman smiled, brushing a lock of hair out of her face and taking the things from him.

"Thank you," she said, sounding only slightly harried. Their eyes met, and in that instant, Bill realized where he had seen her before.

His party, all those years ago. She was the dancer he'd hung out with. Ava, her name was . . . And then they'd . . .

_Holy piss, that kid is mine!_

Thoughts akin to that seemed to be going through Ava's mind, although they were probably more articulate, and she spoke first.

"Well, thanks . . . For helping me with the bag and all . . . "

"No . . . no problem," Bill said, unable to keep his eyes off the bouncing toddler in her arms that was undoubtedly his son. "Um, what's your kid's name? . . . He's adorable."

"James," she said, and the boy looked up at her expectantly. "James . . . William," she added after an awkward silence.

Bill was stunned. Behind him, Charlie was realizing that his brother had left the table, and finally decided to join the conversation.

"What's all this?" he asked, smiling in such a way that seemed friendly but revealed that he had no idea what was going on.

"Ah, Ava here dropped her bag, and I was helping her pick it up . . . " Bill said. Even though that was the gospel truth, the monumental discovery he'd just made, and left his brother out of, made him feel like he was lying.

Charlie nodded, and then said casually,

"Well, Bill, we should be getting home. Mum'll scalp us if we're late again, and I don't think you could bear to be parted with your beautiful locks."

Just five minutes ago, that comment would have seemed perfectly reasonable to Bill, but now, it was childish and over exaggerated. Here he was, in front of his estranged son and girlfriend, and his brother was prattling on about his hair.

"Right," Bill said, trying to seem like less of a git. "Well, then, Ava, it's been lovely . . . When can I see you again?" He prayed that she would cotton on.

"Probably tomorrow afternoon," she said, shifting James to her other hip. "I'm usually always here. It would be lovely if you came to see me."

Was he imagining things, or did Bill catch a bite of annoyance in her tone?

"All right, I'll see you then," he said, trying to act natural. "Bye Ava . . . James."

The boy looked at him appraisingly for a second, but didn't say anything.

"Say good bye, James," his mother prompted. The boy's face broke into a smile, and he waved in earnest, saying,

"Bye James!"

As they turned and went their separate ways, Bill decided that tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.


	3. Animal Crackers

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing.

**AN:** Sorry it's taken me so long to update. Since I last posted, I've graduated from high school, driven (with my family in the modern equivalent of a clown car) from Pennsylvania to Virginia to Florida to Kansas back to Pennsylvania, and my favorite cat was put to sleep.

Reviews are love.

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_Chapter 3 – Animal Crackers_

Bill was barely able to escape the Burrow the next day. When he'd said he was going to Diagon Alley, Charlie had naturally volunteered to go with him, so the eldest Weasley had to make up something about wanting "alone time" to get him to back off. Then Fred and George had demanded to come along because they "needed" to go to the joke shop, and just as he managed to shake them off, Ginny appeared at the door and gave him the best set of Bambi eyes he'd ever seen.

"Can I _please_ come with you?" she begged. "I want to get away from everyone here; they're so annoying."

"Ginny," Bill began. He always had a hard time saying no to his baby sister. "I just told everyone else they had to stay, so it wouldn't be fair if I let you tag along."

"Yes it would," she argued bossily. "Since you went to Egypt, I never get to see you anymore."

This was true, but luckily, Bill's time in Egypt had taught him a little something about bartering.

"Tell you what," he said. "When I get back, I promise I'll spend the entire evening with you, and we'll do whatever _you_ want, all right?"

Ginny wasn't appeased.

"Why can't I come along?" she whined, being rather immature considering she was nearly a teenager.

Devising a plan, Bill stooped next to his sister and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked, knowing that she probably couldn't. Ginny nodded eagerly and leaned closer.

"I'm going to see my girlfriend," Bill said quietly. "But you can't tell anyone, because she has something important to tell me, and I don't want the surprise to be spoiled . . . Can you do that for me?"

"Of course!" she chirped, but Bill suspected she would blab to the first person she came across.

"Good," he replied, and then stood to leave. "Remember, don't tell anyone . . . Especially Charlie."

"Don't tell me what?"

Charlie came strolling into the kitchen then, in search of food and looking mildly interested.

"Nothing," Ginny said smugly, and then looked to her oldest brother for approval. Bill smirked and let himself outside.

He knew his "secret" with Ginny wouldn't last for more than a few hours, but it was nice to know that she was going to try.

* * *

By the time Bill made it to Diagon Alley (he hadn't dared to use the Floo because his mother would be able to find out and he didn't want to explain the situation to her just yet), the weather had shifted from bright and sunny to overcast and threatening to rain. He chose a table beneath the awning at Fortescue's and sat down to wait for Ava and James.

They arrived just as the rain began to fall, James snoozing in the crook of his mother's arm, and barely had time to greet Bill before the small shower morphed into a downpour. Thunder sounded in the distance, and Ava suggested that the three of them should retire to her flat.

"It's just across the way," she said, pointing down a side street that wound its way off Diagon Alley. Bill agreed, and five minutes later, he found himself crossing the threshold of her prim but modest apartment.

"It's not much, but it's what I've got."

Bill expected her to sound annoyed, or even angry, when she addressed him, but oddly, Ava seemed content. She dropped her bag by the umbrella stand in the hall, and carried the sleeping but soggy baby James away to the sitting room. Bill followed, feeling awkward and wrong footed.

The flat wasn't anything like what he'd left behind in Egypt. His place had been filled with creature comforts and some of the newest trends in décor, because being a Curse Breaker was not only an extremely cool job, it also gave him a considerable chuck of disposable income to use however he saw fit.

By contrast, Ava, who apparently worked two jobs and had a toddler to take care of, seemed to simply make ends meet. The furniture was utilitarian, and there was a marked absence of anything stylish. The only things on the floor were toys for James, and even those looked a bit shabby and bland.

After laying James on the sofa and pulling a quilt over him, Ava returned to the hall, where Bill had chosen to hover, and said,

"I can fix us some tea if you'd like. He won't be awake for a while yet, and we have some . . . well, we have some catching up to do."

"All right," Bill said, painfully aware those were the only two words he'd said to her the entire day. He followed her a few steps to the kitchen, which, even though it housed only a table and four chairs along with the usual appliances, was awfully cramped.

Ava set put the kettle on and took a seat beside Bill.

"So . . . " Bill said, thinking that he needed to start the conversation but having no idea how. "How's . . . things?"

"All right, I suppose," Ava mused, idly tracing a water ring on the table. "I had to get James from day care early today. They said he's getting sick, which means I might have to take off work tonight."

"Really?" Bill said. He didn't know what else to say.

"Yes, but I already missed this week, and my manager'll flip if I do it again."

"I could watch him," Bill said eagerly. Ava gave him a weak sort of smile and said,

"I don't know. He doesn't do well with strangers."

"But I'm his dad," he said indignantly. "I want to see him, too. It's my responsibility as much as yours."

"That may be true," Ava said. "But he doesn't know you . . . _I_ don't even know you, and don't feel comfortable leaving my baby with you."

"Excuse me?" Bill said, his temper rising. "Did you just call him 'yours'? I fathered him, you know, and-"

"And then you left," Ava interrupted, sounding surprisingly calm considering the subject matter. "I was with you for one night, Bill, one night. That's nowhere near enough time to get to know anyone. Yes, you're James's father, but you weren't there when I found out I was having him, you weren't there when he was born, and you weren't there to watch him grow. You don't know anything about him."

"And whose fault is that?" Bill demanded angrily. "I had no idea you were even pregnant, so don't preach at me for missing all of his life's precious little moments!"

"Was I preaching?" Ava asked primly, looking up from the table for the first time. Bill glanced away; her gaze was a little disconcerting. "I'm not blaming you . . . I'm not even mad at you. I _know_ I never told you, and don't except you to understand why. I'm just saying that if you look at it, we really don't know anything about each other. All we have together is one steamy night four years ago."

"And a baby!" Bill insisted.

"Yes, and a baby," she conceded. "Who has no idea that you're his dad . . . "

"Well, are you going to tell him?" Bill said sourly. She had won the argument, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. "Or is he never going to know?"

"I'll tell him," Ava said, rising to tend to the kettle, which had just begun to whistle. "But it'll have to wait a bit. I don't want to just spring it on him; he's a very sensitive kid."

"How long are you going to wait?" Bill asked. "I want to spend time with him, you know . . . Make it up to him that I haven't been here."

"Maybe tonight, or tomorrow," Ava replied, placing a cup of tea in front of him and fixing one for herself. "You can stay here today, so you can talk to him a bit when he wakes up. He might like that."

"What about when you go to work?"

"I'll owl my brother. He won't mind coming over."

"Oh," Bill said mildly, sipping his tea. "If he comes, can I stay as well? I really want to see James."

"I don't know," Ava said, and then rushed to explain herself. "My brother doesn't like you."

"What . . . ?" Bill began, confused. "I've never even met this bloke. Why doesn't he like me?"

"He thinks . . . " Ava seemed nervous about telling Bill why her brother wasn't too fond of him. "Well, he thinks you ran out on me. That you knew about James."

This news hit Bill hard, and he slammed his cup down on the table, making Ava flinch.

"You didn't think to tell him the truth?" he spat, quite ready to leave if she said yes.

"Of course I told him the truth!" Ava said quickly. "He just won't listen! . . . I told him about your great, amazing job, and how I didn't want to ruin your life too, but he thinks you're just some stupid git who knocked me up and then left town!"

Bill was halfway out of his seat before what she said sunk in.

"Wait . . . what?" he said, sinking back down into his chair. "You didn't tell me because you thought it would ruin my life?"

"Yeah," Ava said quietly. Bill gave her an incredulous look and she continued. "When we were at your party, you were going on and on about how awesome your job was going to be, and how much fun it sounded, and I didn't want to take that away from you . . . So I didn't tell you. I let you have your fun, and I took care of James by myself."

Bill was silent.

"You should have told me," he finally said. "I would have come back in an instant. I've always wanted kids, I don't know how-"

"Well I didn't know that, all right?" Ava said, getting a little angry. "Like I said, I don't know you. I did what I thought was best."

They were both quiet then, just sipping their tea and avoiding eye contact with one another. After five minutes had passed, there was a thumping noise from the sitting room and James came toddling into the kitchen, slightly wobbly and rubbing sleep from his eyes. He mumbled something and Ava scooped him into her lap, making calm, soothing noises and brushing his floppy auburn hair out of his eyes.

"Did you have a good nap?" she asked, bouncing him on her knee. James nodded and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

"Do you want a snack?" Ava said, and he shook his head, catching sight of Bill as he did so. The little boy's eyes stayed fixed on the older man for a full five seconds, but then he closed them and snuggled against his mother. She put her head next to his and pointed across the table at Bill, who waved.

"Do you remember Mr. Bill from yesterday, outside Fortescue's?" she asked quietly. James thought for a moment, eyes still closed, and then nodded. "Can you say hello?"

The little boy shook his head resolutely and snuggled closer to Ava. Bill smirked; that was definitely his kid.

"Mummy has to send an owl to Uncle Davie," Ava was saying, standing up and walking across the kitchen. "Can you sit with Mr. Bill while she does that?"

"Yeth," James mumbled, his mouth still full of thumb.

"Will you be good?" she prompted, as though this couldn't be assumed from his previous answer.

"Maybe."

Bill opened his arms and took the little bundle that was his son, and watched Ava swish away to the sitting room and out of sight. James's eyes followed her, too, and when she was gone he looked up at Bill expectantly.

"Do you want something?" he asked kindly.

"Cookies."

"All right," Bill said, standing up and moving to the cupboards. "Where does your mummy keep them?"

James pointed at the cupboard to his left; inside was a colorful box of animal crackers that he was only too happy to get his hands on. When he and Bill were seated at the table again, he dumped the whole box out and started playing with them while he ate. Bill realized after a few minutes that these weren't the regular Muggle animal crackers; they had hippogriffs, phoenixes, and sphinxes in addition to the ordinary lions, giraffes, and cows.

James had fun drooling all over the cookies, mashing them up as he pretended they were fighting, and then offering the mixture to Bill, who choked it down while trying not to look disgusted. After all, he could vaguely recall a doing the same thing to his father, only with carrot sticks instead of animal shapes. Ava came back after a few minutes, and couldn't hide her smile as when she found a drool-covered toddler and the rugged Curse Breaker playing in animal cracker mush.

"'S Uncle Davie coming t'night?" James asked eagerly when he spotted his mother.

"Yes, I think so," she answered, scooping him up and cleaning him with a quick wave of her wand. Bill stood as well, eyeing the mess on the table. He Vanished it quickly, and then asked Ava,

"Have you decided whether or not I should stay?" She looked away with the pretense of tying James's sneaker and said quietly,

"I don't think you should just yet."

"Aww, mummy!" James protested, and Bill couldn't hide his smile. "I wan' Misser Bill 'a stay!"

"James," Ava said sternly. "Whining won't get you anywhere." To Bill, she said, "I just don't think he'll like it, and my brother's not the sort of person you want to get angry. Let me tell him in person first, and we'll take it from there."

James was still fussing (apparently, he had become fond of his animal-mush-eating buddy), but both Bill and Ava were ignoring him.

"All right," Bill said. "But, I can see him tomorrow, right? James, I mean."

"Of course. I don't work on Saturdays, so we can spend the day together, if you'd like."

Bill smiled; for all of her preaching about him not knowing her very well, Ava seemed willing to give him the chance. He nodded, and bent down to address the still-squirming James.

"I'll come to see you tomorrow, okay?" he said, reaching out for a hug. "Is that all right with you?"

The little boy thought for a minute, screwing up his face and tapping his chin with his finger.

"Okay," he finally said, leaning into Bill's hug and getting drool all down the front his expensive leather jacket.

"Well, all right then," Bill said. He stuck his hands awkwardly in his pockets; it was time for him to head back home, but he really didn't want to leave. He'd just spent the five most amazing minutes of his life slopping around in animal cookie mush with the son he never knew he had, and as far as he was concerned, it had ended much too soon.

Ava walked him to the door, James still cuddling in her arms, and when he turned to leave, Bill risked giving her a swift peck on the cheek. She shooed him out of the door after that, but he knew he'd seen the tiniest trace of smile on her face as she did so.

Even as he made his way back through the pouring rain and rumbling thunder, Bill felt like he'd never been happier.

That feeling dissolved, though, as soon as he stepped foot inside the Burrow, and all hell broke loose.


	4. Trouble

**Warnings:** bad language, typos

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing.

* * *

_Chapter 4 – Trouble_

Well, actually, Hell waited until Bill had been home for about 15 minutes.

It waited until he'd explained to his mother that, yes, Ginny was telling the truth and he had snuck off to see his girlfriend. It waited as Mrs. Weasley clucked disapprovingly and demanded a full description of the girl, which Bill surrendered without a fuss, cleverly leaving out the fact that she had his kid. And lastly, it waited for Charlie to cotton on and say,

"Oh, you mean that girl you saw yesterday? The one with the redheaded baby? You know, he looked exactly like you did, in your baby pictures . . . "

Then it broke loose.

As Bill shot his brother a death glare that would have made Medusa blush, his mother said in a determinately calm voice,

"Charlie, would you please take your younger brothers and sister upstairs? I want to speak with Bill. Alone."

"But mum!" Charlie began to protest. "I want-"

"_Now_."

Charlie didn't need telling again. He collected the younger Weasleys, all of whom had gathered to watch Bill and their mum's argument (with the exception of Percy, who was still at work), and shuffled them along to the upper floors of the Burrow. Only after she had placed a Silencing Charm on the entire kitchen did Mrs. Weasley turn around to face Bill, who was put forcefully in mind of the time his Muggleborn friend at Hogwarts had explained to him what firing squad was.

"Explain."

Mrs. Weasley's single word demand was surprisingly hard to obey, Bill found, as he struggled to grab words and phrases that would suffice. He heard the wordless seconds tick by, in perfect time with the methodic tapping of his mother's foot. When her son didn't speak for a full minute, Mrs. Weasley prompted again, this time louder and angrier.

"I'm waiting, William. What in Merlin's name was your brother talking about?"

"I, well . . . It's not what you think," Bill said blankly. He knew that it was a lie, because his mother had no doubt connected the proverbial dots, but maybe it would buy him some time.

"Oh really?" she replied shrilly. "And what don't I think it is?"

"That . . . um, well . . . I meant to say, it's not as bad as you think . . . "

For this comment, Bill received a patented "what-kind-of-shit-are-you-trying-to-pull" look, and tried, once more, to explain himself. The words came out in a rush, barely coherent.

"The thing is, I just found out today. Well, yesterday, actually, but I was going to tell you, honestly, only I had to-"

"Tell me what, William?" his mother demanded. Of course she knew already, but she just wanted to hear him say it aloud. She watched him shuffle his feet and look away distractedly as he fished for a phrase to use that would seem better than "I just discovered I have a bastard son". Finally, he said quietly,

"I have a kid, a son."

Bill hardly expected her to be taken aback, and was not surprised when she began shouting at the top of her voice.

"And when were you going to tell me about him?" she raged. "On the child's deathbed? For Merlin's sake, William, I thought your father and I raised you better than this! I can't trust you for-"

"Mum, calm down! It's nothing you need to worry about!" Bill nearly shouted, mostly to lessen the sting from her accusation that he was ill-raised, and he knew instantly that he'd said the wrong thing. Mrs. Weasley was shocked into silence for a good five seconds, and then started up again with such fury that Bill was worried the Silencing Charm wouldn't hold.

"Don't bloody tell me it's nothing to worry about! I've had seven children, William Oliver Weasley, you among them, so I know _for a fact_ that this is _exactly_ the kind of thing that was _made_ for worrying over! I wasn't born yesterday . . . Speaking of which, how old is this baby? What does he even look like, or was Charlie's description fairly accurate?"

"He's three, mum," Bill said forcefully. "He's not a baby, so-"

"Don't you _dare_ get stroppy with me!" his mother shouted, and Bill quieted.

The tiny kitchen was still for a moment, as both sides waited and gathered their wits, and then, quite suddenly, Mr. Weasley and Percy both arrived home from work at the Ministry. During the few seconds it took for Mrs. Weasley to snap at Percy and send him to his room, the newcomers became fully aware that something very huge had just gone down.

"Well, Molly, I get the feeling there's something that needs telling," Mr. Weasley said simply as he put his bony hands on her shoulders. He was looking reproachfully at Bill, as though he already had an inkling about what he was going to hear.

"Yes, Arthur, there is," Mrs. Weasley said briskly. "William, tell your father the news."

If telling his mother had been a horrible experience, then telling his father would be downright torturous. Sure, Mr. Weasley was not one for yelling and shouting, but Bill had always secretly feared the small but unmistakably frustrated sigh his father gave whenever his kid did something stupid, which was always accompanied with an utterly downhearted utterance of, "I'm very disappointed in you, William."

"Dad," Bill began softly, trying very hard to sound guilty. "I . . . Well, you . . . You're a grandfather."

There! He'd said it!

Mr. Weasley seemed not to have heard his son, and stood for a few moments, completely unmoving. He didn't even blink. Bill was wondering if he would have to repeat himself, something he would jump through hoops of fire in order to avoid, but then his father said quietly,

"Really? For how long now?"

"About . . . about three years."

"I see."

Here, Mr. Weasley moved away from his wife and sat down at the small scrubbed table, letting out a sigh worthy of a man twice his years. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes as though they hurt, and only after he had taken several deep breaths did he turn back to his son and ask, almost in a whisper,

"And what is this child's name?"

"Yes, _William_, you neglected to tell me that while you were so busy interrupting me and insisting it was no big deal!" his mother added sourly.

"James," Bill said evenly. "James . . . William."

No one said anything for a long time. They all just avoided eye contact and sighed at regular intervals, until Bill finally bravely broke the silence, saying,

"If it makes you feel better, he doesn't even know yet . . . You're the first people other than his mum and I to know . . . "

"How can you possibly expect that would make us feel better?" Mrs. Weasley began, moving towards her son angrily. "And who is his mum? Some harlot you met when you were drunk? God, Bill, some days I wonder if you've even got any brains under that unruly rat's nest you call hair! Do you ever think before you do anything anymore? Or is it all just a big game without rules?"

"Molly," Mr. Weasley said wearily, rubbing nonexistent dirt off of his glasses without looking at his wife or son.

"What, Arthur?" she snapped, having obviously expected him to back her up.

"Just let him explain," he said tiredly, replacing his glasses and looking expectantly at Bill. Mrs. Weasley whipped her head around and glared, silently demanding the details.

"The thing is . . . " Bill began weakly, his brain working furiously to put the situation in a good light. Unfortunately, he could not do it, and after an awkwardly long pause, he took a deep breath and started again.

"The thing is, I only met the girl once, at the going away party Charlie threw for me when I went away to Egypt. We talked for a while, and I'll admit I had a few drinks, and one thing led to another . . . And then I left a few days later. I didn't see her again until yesterday, outside Fortescue's. She had James with her, and it was pretty obvious whose he is . . . "

Mrs. Weasley's face grew progressively redder, and when she thought Bill was finished, she started in on him again, raging and shouting about his lack of responsibility and his stupid choices and how she was so angry with him that she was about to explode like a neglected Howler.

Bill didn't really hear any of it, though. He was trying to avoid his father's eyes, feeling guilt and shame wash over him every time he did. Of course he knew that his father was disappointed in him, of course he knew he was in more trouble than he'd ever been in his entire life, of course he knew he would now have to work at home because his mother was never going to let him leave the house again, but none of that could have prepared him for this moment and the look on his father's face. It was the look of a man who had been betrayed and let down by his closest friend, his family, and Bill couldn't help but know that he deserved it.

"So when are we going to meet them, anyway?"

Hearing this shocked Bill right out of his personal angstfest, and he stared blankly at his mother for ten whole seconds before he could think of anything to say.

"Come . . . come again?" he managed to get out, feeling completely wrong footed.

"Your kid, James, and his mum," Mrs. Weasley repeated, hands on her hips. "When are we going to meet them, or are you going to pretend this never happened and abandon them again?"

"I don't know," Bill said. "I . . . I didn't think you'd want to meet them."

"Merlin's beard, William, of course we want to meet them!" his mother shrieked, throwing her hands up in the air. "You used to be so smart, what happened? For God's sake, what-"

"Molly," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "Please."

This was enough to silence her tirade, and she took a deep, calming breath before she spoke again.

"Why don't you have them over Sunday night? Ron's friends Harry and Hermione already are coming, since they're going to the Cup with us. I usually make enough food to feed all of England anyway."

"_This_ Sunday?" Bill asked incredulously. His mother lost her temper long enough to shout,

"No, Bill, the Sunday next . . . "

She stopped herself, though, and after a brief pause, said with a determined calm,

"Yes. This Sunday."

"But that's two days from now! James doesn't even know yet, how am I supposed to-"

"William, I think that is the _least_ of your problems and I will _not_ have you raising your voice at _me_, after everything you've put me through tonight!" His mother's voice was becoming steadily shriller, and Bill knew to keep quiet. He had just opened his mouth to ask when he should go invite them now when his mother held up her hand and said dismissively,

"I don't want to hear it! You can just go to your room while I think about the rest of your punishment . . . And don't even _think_ about stepping foot outside it unless you have a death wish!"

"Mum!" Bill protested, instinctively holding up his arms, lest she start throwing things. "I promised I would go see them tomorrow!"

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep!" was his mother's furious reply, and it was punctuated by a vicious smack with the tea towel she had been carrying the entire time.

Bill tempted death by involuntarily rolling his eyes, and said,

"And how should I bloody invite her over then?"

He received another welt from the tea towel, and his mother shouted,

"You may borrow Errol! _NOW GO!_"

In any other situation, Bill would have appealed to his father. But he was smart enough to know that this was no ordinary situation, and that his father would not help him even if he did. Defeated, and massaging the growing welts on his arm, Bill turned and retreated upstairs without another word.

He regretted that the last thing he caught a glimpse of was his mother, believing that he could no longer see her, collapse into her husband's lap in tears as he rubbed her back and shushed her gently. The swift glance in his direction told Bill that his father could still see him, and he took the stairs two at a time to escape the scene.

All in all, though, this had gone much better than he'd expected.

He was alive.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Sorry this has taken so long. And I know that Bill's middle name is "Arthur" but I figured since I've suspended a lot of canon so far, changing it to something cooler wouldn't make much difference._

_Reviews are love!_


	5. Saturday

**Warnings:** a dropping of the "f-bomb," and some other curse words

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing

* * *

_Chapter 5 – Saturday_

When Bill entered his room, his head still reeling from the shouting match with his mum, the last thing he wanted was a barrage of questions from Charlie.

Unfortunately, it was the first thing he got.

"What was that all about?" the younger Weasley asked, looking up from the book he was skimming, lounging on his bed at the far end of the room.

Being in no mood for his brother's antics, Bill chose to throw himself onto his bed, blatantly ignoring the other boy. He didn't want to talk about what had just happened with anyone, least of all Charlie, who was the epitome of immaturity some days.

"Come on, Bill," he urged, completely undeterred by his older brother's snit. "What happened? Why's mum so angry with you? She hasn't used a Silencing Charm in a while, not since the thing with the twins and the Acid Pop . . . "

It took everything in him to keep Bill from shouting at his sibling to leave him alone. He lay perfectly still on his bed, staring at the ceiling with a blank look on his face. If he could just keep his mouth shut until Charlie lost interest, then maybe he could go and get Errol, so he could write to Ava . . .

Charlie let out a low whistle and said with a smug grin,

"That bad?" he said, thoroughly amused. "You must have really screwed up this time, huh?"

Again, Bill didn't reply. He fixed his attention on a scuff mark on the ceiling. He didn't want to talk to Charlie, he didn't want to listen to Charlie, he didn't even want to be in the same country as Charlie, because the last thing he needed was some immature kid pelting him with asinine questions.

The worst part was, he didn't want to even admit it. Until now, he could always go to Charlie with any sort of problem and not have to worry about being laughed at or misunderstood. He and his brother had been so close, but now, Bill felt that he had crossed a bridge over a huge ravine, alone and quite unsure about what to do next, and that Charlie was still on the other side, blissfully unaware that his brother was gone.

"So what did it have to do with that girl?" Charlie was saying, having abandoned his book and was now looking eagerly at Bill. "Anything? Nothing? Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"You know what, Charlie?" Bill finally said, still glaring at the ceiling. "I can't tell you. And do you know why? Because there is no way you'd understand."

The younger Weasley was quiet for a few seconds, and Bill knew that he'd just said the wrong thing.

"Why the hell not?" Charlie finally demanded.

"Because you're too immature," Bill snapped, knowing that he couldn't hide the resentment any longer. "Leave me alone."

"Oh!" his brother scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he stood and turned away. "_I'm_ immature? Who's the one that went out and knocked up some girl and then buggered off?"

"Who the hell told you that?"

Bill was instantly on his feet, shoving his younger brother backwards so that he fell onto the floor. Charlie got up and stepped menacingly towards his older brother. He was a good five inches shorter than Bill, but his ability to wrestle dragons to the ground would certainly aid him if a fight broke out.

"No one told me, I figured it out myself," he replied coolly. "That kid looked exactly like you, and when you saw him and his mum, you freaked out. It doesn't take a genius to put the two together."

"But . . . I didn't . . . " Bill heard himself stammering, and would have dearly liked to punch his brother for what he said next.

"I wasn't going to say anything, but when you came home, it was obvious you weren't going to. I felt that she needed to know."

"What the hell, Charlie!" Bill shouted. "It's not any of your god damn business to tell mum! And, for your information, I was fully intending to tell her. I was going to be tactful about it, unlike you, and wait until she was ready."

"And when was that going to be?" his brother countered. "A week? A month? A year? How d'you think she'd feel to find out that you'd been hiding the baby from her for that long? I was just doing what you couldn't."

Charlie was right, but Bill wasn't about to admit it. He was blinded by the fact that his younger brother, the one who had always looked up to him and wanted to be just like him, was here in front of him, all but saying that he was a failure.

"Well, then all I can say is thank fuck for you, Charlie," he finally muttered, his voice low with anger.

"Glad I could help," Charlie sneered. He turned and sat on his bed again, angrily leafing through his now upside-down book. It was clear he was done talking.

Bill's head was ringing as though someone had stuck a pot over it and struck it with a metal spoon. He sank onto his own bed and turned away from Charlie, fully aware of the fact that he was sulking like a three year old. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He and his brother usually got on so well together, and now, it didn't look like they'd ever speak to each other again.

The happy time he'd spent playing with James earlier that day seemed like a lifetime ago, and it was a lifetime that was now painfully out of his reach.

* * *

The next morning, Bill woke up before anyone else at the Burrow. He had to get out of the house and see Ava, because there was no way he could explain everything that had happened in a letter.

He dressed as quietly as he could, cursing the fact that the only shoes he'd brought were his dragon hide boots. Not only had Charlie given them to him (and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with his brother at the moment), they were the noisiest pair of shoes in the entire world.

"Where the hell are you going?"

It was Charlie. The monstrous clomp-clomp-clomping of the boots had woken him up, and he was staring at Bill with a mixture of exhaustion and anger on his face.

"Out," was Bill's one word reply.

"Out where?"

"Who the hell are you, my mum? If I'm sneaking out, I obviously don't want anyone to know where I'm going, least of all you."

At that, Charlie snorted and rolled over.

"Just a hint, the boots are loud," he said.

Bill grimaced and pulled off his shoes, and didn't put them back on until he was safely outside and away from any potential witnesses. The only thing that bothered him was that Charlie knew he had left, and would go running to their mother and rat him out the first chance he got. Shoving the thought of his impending punishment to the back of his mind, Bill Apparated to London and made his way to Diagon Alley, via the Leaky Cauldron.

At first, when he reached Ava's flat, he was afraid that he had come too early. It took a good five minutes of waiting for anyone to answer the door, but once it swung open and Bill saw James standing behind it, wearing blue footy pajamas and an impish smile, all of his ill feelings and worries melted away.

"Morning little one," Bill said, bending down to James's level. "Could you tell your mum Bill's here?"

"No," James said, shaking his head wildly, the grin still plastered on his face. "I isn't 'opposed to talk 'a strangers."

"I'm not a stranger," Bill insisted, inching closer. "You met me yesterday, remember? I came over and we ate animal crackers together."

"No," the little boy replied in a sing-song voice, making to close the door. Bill was about to shove his hand forward to stop the door from closing, but suddenly, the door swung forward and hit him square in the face with an almighty bang. He toppled and landed with a loud thump on his back, dazed and slightly confused.

"Oh my god! I'm _so_ sorry!"

Bill heard Ava's voice, but it was as though it was coming from a great distance. He looked vaguely in the direction he thought it was coming from, and waited for his eyes to focus on the doorway, where she was standing, hands over her mouth and eyes full of concern. Beside her, James was rolling on the ground, laughing hysterically.

"'S all right," Bill replied, sitting up and rubbing the growing bump on his head. "I've had worse."

Ava flew to his side and knelt down. She looked genuinely worried. James stayed in the doorway, given over to a fit of laughter, as Ava helped Bill stand up and led him inside. Once he had been seated at the table and supplied with a cup of tea, Bill looked up at Ava and smiled.

"I'm so sorry," she said again, moving around the kitchen and flicking her wand at various things. A pan flew to the stove, which immediately began to heat up, and a carton of eggs and a pint of milk settled themselves on the counter in front of Ava. "I didn't see you there, honestly. I just thought James was playing with the door again, he's been at it all morning, and-"

"Ava, it's fine," Bill laughed. James was now sitting on a pile of spell books on a chair across from him, happily doodling on a scrap of parchment his mother had given him. "Three of my brothers played Quidditch, so trust me when I say that was nothing."

"Are you sure?" Ava asked, cracking eggs into a measuring cup and pouring in a bit of milk. She mixed them together with a wave of her wand as Bill replied,

"Yes, I'm positively, definitely, most assuredly sure."

She smiled at that, and with another flick of her wand, directed the measuring cup to the stove and tipped the contents into the pan. Bill watched her with mild interest, and then glanced over at James, who was scribbling on the parchment with wild abandon.

"What are you drawing?" he asked, leaning across the table to secure a better view.

"You gettin' hit wif the door," James replied, drawing a swirl around the head of what Bill now saw was a crude, stick figure representation of himself. At the memory of it, the little boy smiled and chuckled into his hand.

"Well, then you need to draw you," Bill said with resignation. "Laughing at the sight of other's physical pain."

"How d' I do that?"

"James," Ava said, setting a plate of fresh scrambled eggs in front of him. "Put your things away now, it's time for breakfast."

The little boy scowled, but gathered up his parchment and crayons and put them on an empty chair before his mother placed him in his high chair. Once he was seated, James shoveled the eggs and toast his mother had made for him into his mouth like a pig, completely forsaking his fork.

"James!" his mother scolded, hands on her hips. Bashfully, the boy picked up his fork and ate with such fine table manners that he could have been mistaken for royalty.

"Oh, Bill, did you want anything?" Ava asked, turning back to the stove. "I can make you some eggs, too, or if you want something else, I could-"

"Eggs'll be fine, thank you," Bill said, standing. "Do you need any help?"

"No, no!" she insisted. "You just sit down, I'll do it."

Awkwardly, Bill sat down again and looked across the table at James, who was now trying to put a bit of egg on a piece of toast and failing miserably. Finally, he gave up, and after a quick glance at his mother, shoved the whole lot of it into his mouth at once and swallowed it in one gulp. When he saw that Bill was watching, he put his finger to his lips and made a shushing sound, a devilish smile sneaking around his mouth.

"Here you go," Ava said, now placing some eggs and toast in front of Bill before sitting next to him with a cup of tea.

"Mummy, I's done!" James announced, pointing to his sparklingly clean plate. "Can I draw s'more now?"

"You'll have to wait a minute, mummy just sat down," Ava said, taking a long sip of her tea.

"But mummy!" James wailed, pounding his fists on the high chair. "I wanna draw _now_!"

"Do you think whining will make me get up faster?"

James stuck out his bottom lip, eyes sparkling with tears, and while his mother was immune to the Bambi eyes, his father wasn't. He stopped eating and retrieved James's crayons and parchment, placing them before his son with a sheepish smile. The little boy beamed, and gave his mother a smug look that Bill thought was frightfully reminiscent of his twin brothers before picking up a bright green crayon and scribbling all over the parchment.

As Bill sat down again, Ava sighed and took another pull from her tea.

"You shouldn't do that," she said. "Now he'll think he can get whatever he wants from you."

"Well, he can," Bill countered. " . . . Within limits, of course," he added quickly when he saw the_ look_ Ava gave him. She sighed wearily, and looked across the table at her son, who was now adding purple to splotches to the stick-figure he'd drawn earlier.

"What're those?" Bill asked interestedly.

"Bumps on your face."

Deciding not to reply, the older man rolled his eyes and finished eating his breakfast as Ava stood and cleared away James's plate and juice cup. The little boy was now finished with his "mas'er piece" and was insisting that it be hung on the fridge so everyone could see it.

"I'll hang it up while you go get dressed," his mother replied, releasing him from the high chair and taking the drawing from him. "I put some clothes out on your bed for you."

"Okay!"

And with that, James scampered off down the hall. Bill watched him go with a wistful smile on his face, and then turned back to Ava, who had cleaned the dishes with a flick of her wand and was now attaching her son's picture to the front of the refrigerator.

"I didn't think you'd get here so early," she said conversationally, taking his plate from him and placing it in the sink. "You must really want to see James . . . "

"Well, yes . . . and no," Bill replied, rising to help her. "You see, the thing is . . . Last night, my mum found out."

"Found out about what?" Ava asked.

"James!" he replied, slightly exasperated. "She knows about him, that he's my kid. Our kid."

For a full minute, Ava said nothing. She cleaned Bill's plate, dried it and put it back in the cupboard with a wave of her wand, and turned back to the sink, but realized all the dishes had been cleaned, and simply leaned over it, as though by staring she would find another distraction.

"How?" she finally managed to say, looking over her shoulder at him.

"My brother Charlie," he said, feeling a surge of anger as he did so. Ava's mouth flew into an "O" and Bill rushed to explain himself. "Oh, no, I didn't tell him! He saw us together in Diagon Alley the other day and put two and two together. He told my mum when I got home yesterday, and . . . yeah."

Again, Ava was silent. She looked at her feet, at her hands, out the window, everywhere but at Bill.

"I'm not even supposed to be here now," he continued. "She was furious when she found out, and confined me to the house. That's why I'm here so early, I had to come before anyone else woke up."

Ava nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Why doesn't she want you to see us?" she asked delicately. "Doesn't . . . doesn't she like James?" The words came out as little more than a whisper, as though someone not liking her son was her greatest fear.

"Oh no, it's nothing like that!" Bill replied, rushing over to her and putting his hand on her shoulder. "No, she's just angry at me, understandably I suppose, but it's nothing against you or the baby . . . She even invited you two over for dinner tomorrow, which I was supposed to write to you about, but . . . I didn't think it was the sort of thing I could put in a letter."

"Invited us to . . . What?" Ava said, moving away from him. "He doesn't even know about you, who you are . . . How are we supposed to manage that?"

"I was, well . . . I was hoping we could tell him today," Bill said sheepishly. "He'll find out tomorrow anyway, my mum won't be able to contain herself . . . She's always wanted a grandkid to smother with love."

Just then, James came waddling back into the kitchen. He had managed to put his trousers on correctly, but it was the shirt that had gotten him. One arm was through the sleeve; the other had managed to slide itself through the neck hole, and was now stuck straight in the air.

"Mummy, I broke it!" he wailed, and Ava knelt down to fix his shirt. The little boy sniffled pitifully, and once his shirt was on properly, he looped his arms around his mother's neck and cuddled close to her, thumb in his mouth and eyes closed.

"Aw, are you my little monkey baby?" Ava said quietly, because James was now hanging onto her with only one arm. He nodded and snuggled closer, trying to make a monkey noise, but giving up when he realized that would involve him taking his thumb out of his mouth.

Bill watched the scene with a subdued sort of envy; he would give anything to have his son cuddle next to him as a father, not just a friend of his mother's. He caught Ava's gaze and gave her a significant look, as though to say, "We need to tell him now." She glanced down at James, who was picking lint off of her shirt and trying to eat it, and then nodded briskly.

"Let's go into the den," she said. James looked up, and nodded, as though his opinion was the deciding factor in the move. "Mummy and Mr. Bill have something to tell you."

Bill followed the two of them down a short corridor into a small, cramped room. It was the same one that James had napped in yesterday, but Bill hadn't taken the time to really examine it then. The only furniture was a worn couch, a mismatched arm chair and a few bookcases, all of which were stuffed with leather bound volumes and tomes. James' toys were scattered about, all in varying states of shabbiness.

Ava settled down on the couch with her son, and Bill sat beside them, suddenly nervous. What if James hated him? What if he became angry? What if he didn't want a dad at all, after having lived without one for so long? What if . . . ?

"James," Ava began, pulling the bouncing boy into her lap. He looked up expectantly, and went very still. It was as if he knew something important was about to happen. "Do you remember when you asked where your daddy was, and I said I didn't know?"

When the little boy nodded, Bill felt the growing knot in his stomach tighten painfully.

"And do you remember when I said I didn't know if you'd ever get to meet him?"

Another nod, and Bill became aware that he was clenching the couch cushion with a death grip.

"Well, James," Ava said, and it was only know that her voice wavered. "I found him."

It was like someone had flipped a light switch, James's face lit up so fast. He started bouncing up and down on his mother's knee, clapping his hands with delight. He looked at Bill and said excitedly,

"Di' you hear that, Misser Bill? Mummy found my daddy! Oh goo'ness, I's so ess-ited!"

Bill nodded, trying very hard not to loose it completely. He wanted so badly to reach out and scoop up his son, but the few seconds he'd have to wait to do so seemed like an eternity.

"Who is he, mummy?" James was asking eagerly. "Who is my daddy?"

"You've met him before," Ava replied calmly. She didn't seem to be bursting with joy, but as Bill looked closer, he saw that she was shining just as brightly as her son.

"Oh boy!" James chirped, and he grinned at Bill again. "Who is he, mummy? Tell me! Tell me!"

"Why don't I show you instead?" she offered, and he nodded fiercely. Ava took his hands in hers and covered his eyes, at which point he gave a little gurgle of laughter, and then she turned him to face Bill. Bending down so that her head was level with his, she whispered, "Okay, open your eyes."

James obeyed, and for a full minute, the world stood still. The father and son looked at each other for the first time, both shocked and amazed. Bill didn't trust himself to speak.

It was James who broke the silence. He reached forward and put his tiny hand on his father's, as though making sure it wasn't just an illusion. A smile spread over his face, slowly at first, and then faster as he realized what all of this meant.

"Daddy?" he said hopefully, and then Bill couldn't restrain himself any longer. He nodded and scooped up James, cuddling him for the first time as a son, and trying with all his might not to cry. James laughed again, and snuggled closer and gave Bill a sloppy sort of kiss right on his forehead.

"Daddy!" he repeated, and turned back to his mum, who was hastily wiping a tear off her cheek. "Mummy, look! I's my daddy!"

"I know, honey," she said. "I know."

"Daddy," the little boy said again, snuggling into the crook of Bill's arm. "You's finally here."

"Yes, James," Bill said, speaking for the first time. He pulled his son closer and whispered, "I'm here now. And always will be."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ I'm in college now, so updates might be scarce for a bit, while I try to figure everything out and get adjusted to this whole thing. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it took me so long to write, and it was being difficult most of the time, but I think it turned out okay._

_Reviews are love._


	6. Saturday Afternoon

**Warnings:** bad language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing

* * *

_Chapter 6 – Saturday Afternoon_

As the day wore on, Bill came to realize something very important: Ava was a modern day superhero.

James was constantly on the move, playing with something, scribbling on something else, knocking over this, jumping on that. The little mite had endless energy, and even though Bill's job had given him a stunning physique, he was winded after an hour. Ava, however, seemed just as wired as her son.

It was only after lunch, which had included Bill getting splattered with grape juice and hit in the face with a peanut butter sandwich, that the older man decided he had to go home and face his mother. He knew she was going to be furious that he had snuck out, but seeing his son's face light every time they looked at each other made him feel the scalping he'd receive would be completely worth it.

"Are you coming for dinner tomorrow?" Bill asked as Ava showed him to the door. James was still in the kitchen, scribbling on a napkin.

"Yes, I suppose I have to now," she said, smiling. "James is so excited about having grandparents."

"Hasn't he met yours?" he said, puzzled. "I mean, your parents?"

"No," Ava replied, looking at her hands as her face began to redden with embarrassment. "We had a bit of a falling out after he was born. They didn't even come to see me at the hospital when I had him . . . My mum writes sometimes, but that's about it."

"Oh."

He didn't really know what else to say. He had assumed that her parents would have loved little James as much as he did, even though he was a bit unexpected. But, no, here was another way in which Bill had messed up Ava's life.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said after an awkward silence. He had just placed his hand on the doorknob when James came tearing down the hall, crying,

"Wait! Daddy, don't go!"

Bill was on his knees in an instant, scooping up his son and wrapping him in a tight embrace. James looped his arms around his neck, and refused to let go.

"I don't want you to go!" he wailed. "You said you wouldn't!"

The words hit him like a sack of bricks. Yes, Bill had said that he would always be there, but he had meant it in a more figurative way. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't for the life of him think of anything to explain the difference between metaphor and reality.

"I just have to go out for a bit," he finally managed.

James was not appeased.

"I don't want you to," he sniffled. "You have a' stay here."

Bill was no match for his son's complete and utter adorableness. Ava, however, lifted her baby easily out of his arms and looked him right in the eyes.

"Daddy has to go out for a bit," she repeated. "He has to let Grandma and Grandpa know that we're coming tomorrow, so they can get ready for us."

"Can I go with?" James asked hopefully, looking to Bill.

"No," Ava answered before he could say anything. "It has to be a surprise. For tomorrow. Grandma and Grandpa can't meet you until tomorrow."

"A surprise?" James said, his face lighting up. "For Gramma and Grampa?"

Ava nodded, and the little boy clapped his hands joyfully, saying,

"Oh boy, I get to be a surprise!"

With James thus distracted, Bill was able to slip out of the apartment. He felt his heart break a little as he trudged down the hall, still able to hear his son chattering animatedly, though the words were muffled and unintelligible. Tomorrow felt like it was an eternity away.

He Apparated to the Burrow, and snuck around to the back yard. If he could just make it to his room, he could pretend he had been asleep all this time . . . No, scratch that. Charlie would have told his mum by now.

He was as good as dead.

Bill was amazed at his good luck, and nearly made it out of the kitchen, before a wary voice came from behind him.

"I thought you were supposed to be in your room."

He turned and saw his dad at the back door, pulling off his jacket and looking at his son reproachfully.

"I was," Bill said. It was a boldfaced lie, and both men knew it. Arthur Weasley sighed, and it was such a remorseful sound that the younger man rushed to correct himself.

"Well, I was going there . . . From outside."

"And by 'outside', you mean 'visiting your son'," his father said knowingly. Bill nodded. "I figured as much . . . How is he today?" Mr. Weasley asked as he sat himself down at the table, motioning for Bill to join him.

"Fine," he replied, feeling a little guilty. His dad was probably going to lecture him, which though it was going to be quieter than the one his mother had given him last night, was going to be three times as painful. He elected to postpone it by talking about James. "He hit me in the head with a door this morning . . . "

His dad indulged in a small smile and said,

"That explains the bruise."

"Yeah . . ." Bill replied ruefully, rubbing the bump on his head. He then added in a would-be causal voice, "And he found out today. About me . . . being his dad."

"I see," said Mr. Weasley evenly. "I expect you relayed the invitation to dinner tomorrow to him and his mother?"

"Yes. James is excited about it, and I'm pretty sure Ava is as well," Bill replied.

"Ava?" his father asked, face darkening.

"James's mum."

"Oh."

Awkward silence descended, and Bill considered just getting up and going to his room quietly when his father said,

"So she's coming as well?"

Bill nodded, and his father smiled.

"Good. I got the right number then," he said, taking a parchment envelope out of his pocket and sliding it across the table to his son.

"What are these?" he asked cautiously, opening it and taking out two pieces of pasteboard.

"Tickets," his father replied, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "I thought it would be rude of you to go to the Cup without your son, and I daresay you can't afford much more rudeness on that front, can you?"

Bill's face went blank for a good five seconds as he tried to work out what his father had just said. When it finally dawned on him, he jumped up from the table and slapped his hand across his mouth in surprise.

"Holy shit, dad!" he managed to say. That remark earned him a raised eyebrow, and he looked back at the tickets as he groped around his mind for something more articulate. "What the . . . How did you get these? The Cup's in two days, and-"

"That isn't for you to worry about," his father said, standing. "I took care of it. All you need to do is get those tickets and yourself upstairs before your mother comes back. She went out shopping for tomorrow's dinner, and I told her you were still in bed. You should go add some truth to that lie while I write . . . Ava . . . a letter."

"What about?" Bill asked, slipping the tickets back into their envelope and the envelope into his back pocket. "I could just go back and tell her-"

"No, Bill," Mr. Weasley said firmly. "Even if I understand why you snuck out this morning, that doesn't mean I approve of it. I agree with your mother's punishment, and expect you to remain in your room for the rest of the day. I'll tell you when it's time for supper."

Bill hung his head, but nodded. After another uncomfortable moment, he reached forward and embraced his dad, saying quietly,

"Thanks."

It took a second, but Mr. Weasley returned the gesture, saying upon his release,

"You're welcome. Don't assume your mother and I are against you on this . . . I know I've always wanted a grandson . . . even an unexpected one."

Bill gave his father a small smile, and retreated up the stairs to his room. His father's words had stirred something up in him, and it took a while to figure out exactly what it was.

Pity.

For Ava.

* * *

The rest of the day dragged on and on, while Bill alternated pacing his room with trying to distract himself with one of the dragon keeping books on Charlie's bookshelf. The two brothers had passed in the hallway as Bill came upstairs, and one glance and understanding nod was all it took for their row to be over. Charlie stayed out of the room for most of the day, though, returning just before dinner. 

"How's your jail sentence going?" he asked cheekily, flopping down on his bed and kicking off his boots.

"Very slowly," Bill replied. He had give up on independent thought and movement, turning his mind to the various scuff and burn marks on the ceiling.

"So your kid's really coming for dinner tomorrow?" The younger Weasley seemed strangely excited about this, especially given his rotten attitude about it yesterday.

"Yeah," said Bill. "And so is Ava, his mum."

"Sweet."

"'Sweet'?" his brother repeated, stirred out of his apathy by Charlie's use of such an American colloquialism. "Did you just say that?"

"Yeah," he said with a smirk. "I did."

Bill rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide his grin.

"Sweet," he said, looking over at Charlie, who grimaced.

"It sounds stupid when you say it," he informed him. "You're too old and _mature_."

Even though he knew Charlie was just making fun of him, Bill had to admit he was right.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ This chapter is fairly short, but that's only because I was originally going to combine it with the next chapter. I was about eight pages into it when I decided to split it in half, and only halfway through what I wanted to happen._

_Reviews are love._


	7. Sunday Evening

**Warnings:** bad language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing . . . Especially the direct-from-canon quotes at the end.

* * *

_Chapter 7 – Sunday Evening_

Ava arrived the next evening at 5:00, with a happy, bouncing baby James in tow. It was Bill who answered the door, and when he recognized his father, James let out a screech like a banshee.

"Daddy!"

"James!" the older man replied, letting him and Ava inside. "How are you today?"

"Amazing," the little boy said proudly.

"And how's mummy?" Bill said, looking to her inquisitively.

"All right," she said, sounding tired. It was only now that Bill noticed she was carrying a huge bag that appeared full to bursting. Ava followed his gaze, and answered his question before he could even ask it.

"For tomorrow . . . Your father sent a letter saying we should bring extra clothes because we were coming with you to the Quidditch World Cup." She dropped her voice and said in an undertone, "How on earth did you manage to get tickets? My brother's been trying to get them, but they're been sold out for months."

Bill didn't have time to make up an answer, because at that moment, his father came wandering into the room, muttering about being late for something. He almost walked right past his son and grandson, but James, who was not used to being ignored, said loudly,

"I'm going to the Kidditch World Cup!"

Mr. Weasley turned on the spot and looked at James for the first time, who was happily snuggled in his mother's arms. He didn't even have to ask if he was his grandson, the resemblance to Bill was so great. Words escaped him, and he just stood there, transfixed and amazed by the little child with a mop of auburn hair and an adorable smile.

"I'm going to the Kidditch World Cup!" James repeated, nodding eagerly.

"Really?" Mr. Weasley finally managed to say, and Bill realized he had been holding his breath since his father and son had locked eyes. It came out in a small whoosh that he hoped no one else heard, and he looked expectantly at Ava, who was struggling to conceal her own smile.

"Yes," James was saying. "I is going with my Gramma and Grampa, but they doesn't know me . . . I doesn't know thems, but I want to. I's a surprise!" Here, he made a shushing sound, and giggled.

"I see," said Mr. Weasley, who was not even bothering to hide the smile that spread over his face. "Well, I think you'll be a wonderful surprise, don't you, Bill?"

"Yeah," Bill said quickly, smiling at James, who beamed.

"Tha's my daddy!" he squealed, holding out his hands expectantly. Uncertainly, Bill reached forward and took his son from Ava, who, after she no longer held the bouncing bundle of joy, looked oddly diminished.

"Really?" Mr. Weasley said, looking from James to Bill and nodding. "Because he's also my son. Hmm, that means something . . . " He tapped his chin, as though he was pondering the depths of the universe, and continued to look at both of them intently.

James laughed, and snuggled closer to his father. He was about to speak when none other than Molly Weasley came bursting into the room, already yelling at her husband.

"Arthur Weasley, you were supposed to have left . . . !"

She stopped short at the sight of the smiling, little, auburn-headed bundle in Bill's arms, and only avoided fainting by grabbing the doorframe. Suddenly, she was panting as though she had run ten miles, and Bill saw that her eyes were glistening with tears.

"Molly," Mr. Weasley began pleasantly, as though she hadn't been raging at him two seconds prior. "Did you know that this little boy is Bill's son?"

All she could do was shake her head, and James giggled again, looking up happily at his dad.

"Huh," Mr. Weasley said, wrapping his arm around his wife's shoulders, pretending to think deeply again. "And if Bill is _our_ son, I think that means we're related to the little chap, right?"

Another nod from his wife, and the laugh in his voice was obvious to everyone in the room as he said,

"I thought so, but I can't for the life of me figure out what that makes us."

It was quiet for a second, and then . . .

"_Surprise!_"

James, having connected the proverbial dots, launched himself at his grandfather, who barely managed to catch him by the waistband of his trousers. Giggling, James then scrambled into his grandmother's arms and snuggled up to her as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Mrs. Weasley was now crying openly, but laughing through it all, and showering her grandson with three and a half years worth of hugs and kisses.

Ava made a small sound, almost like a sob, and Bill moved to wrap his arm around her as his parents looked up and noticed the small brunette for the first time.

"You must be Ava," Mr. Weasley said kindly, extending his James-free hand to her. She took it, and shaking it gently, said,

"Yes, I am."

"Look, look, Gramma!" James squealed. "Gramma, tha's my mummy!"

Mrs. Weasley followed her grandson's gaze, and smiled when she caught sight of Ava.

"It's so good to meet you," she said warmly, also reaching for and shaking the woman's hand. Both of them looked fondly at the energetic little boy, who smiled and clapped his hands with delight. The moment ended when one of the twins, probably Fred, poked his head into the room and said,

"Hey dad, weren't we going to pick up Harry at five?"

"Ah, yes . . . Yes, we were," Mr. Weasley said distractedly, still smiling and waving at his grandson. "Why?"

"It's 5:30."

A quick curse, and Mr. Weasley was gone.

"Who's Harry?" James asked. "Mummy, who's Harry?"

"I don't know," Ava replied, looking to Mrs. Weasley expectantly. She smiled, and hitched James up on her hip.

"Let's go into the kitchen, and I'll get you a snack while I tell you who Harry is," Mrs. Weasley said. " . . . Bill, be a dear and take Ava's things up to your room," she added briskly when she noticed the huge bag Ava was carrying. With a nod, Bill took the bag and disappeared down the hall. On the stairs, he met Charlie, who gave a whistle and said,

"Nice bag."

It was only now that Bill noticed said bag was covered with teddy bears and fluffy yellow ducks.

"It's not mine, it's Ava's," he said curtly, shoving past his brother and making his way down the hall.

"So your kid's here?" the younger Weasley said, suddenly in good spirits.

"Yeah."

Bill heard the thundering of his brother's feet on the stairs, and only after depositing the ducky bag on his bed could he chase after him and return to his son.

He entered the kitchen to find Ava helping his mother prepare dinner, and James sitting at the table with Charlie, laughing and bouncing up and down with happiness.

"Daddy!" he shrieked, pointing quite unnecessarily at Bill. Everyone else looked his way, and only Mrs. Weasley didn't smile. It was obvious she was still angry with her son. Quietly, he took his place at the table and pulled James into his lap.

"Did you meet your Uncle Charlie yet?" he asked, pointing to his brother. James nodded, and said,

"He's the best uncle ever."

"Did he tell you to say that?"

"No." But even as the little boy said this, he nodded his head earnestly. Bill laughed, and said,

"Well, you can't be sure until you meet all your other uncles . . . And your auntie."

James's eyes widened, and he said in a voice barely above a whisper,

"I have . . . _other_ . . . uncles? And a auntie?"

"Yeah," Charlie cut in. "You've got four other uncles. And an auntie."

"Mummy!" James shrieked happily, making everyone in the room except Mrs. Weasley flinch. "I have four uncles!"

"Five," Charlie corrected.

"Five uncles!" James said, not missing a beat. He laughed quite manically, and clapped his hands again.

"Technically, you have six," Ava said calmly, directing some of the carrots she had been chopping into a bowl with her wand. "Remember uncle Davie?"

"Oh yeah, six uncles!" James yelled. "And a auntie!"

"Use your inside voice, James," his mother chided.

"Oh, Ava, it's all right," Mrs. Weasley laughed. "He can be as loud as he wants. I'm so used to my herd crashing about that he won't make much difference."

"_What _is all this rumpus?"

It was Percy, standing in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically livid. Bill saw Charlie choke back a laugh, and fought to keep a straight face himself.

Percy had managed to secure a job at the Ministry of Magic, and was quite all right with telling everyone about how important it was, even though it sounded to Bill that he only did the busy work his boss and everyone else dumped on him. Percy would hear none of this, however, and in the few weeks Bill had been home, he quickly became aware that his younger brother was completely serious about his job, even though no one else was.

"Oh, Percy!" Mrs. Weasley was saying, waving her hands about as she gestured to James. "Have you met your new nephew yet?"

Percy, however, said nothing. He was too busy staring at Ava, and for a spilt second, Bill got the silliest impression that he was struck dumb by the presence of a female other than his mum or sister at the Burrow. Logic caught up with him, though, when he remembered that Percy was completely in love with his work, which left absolutely no room for physical pleasure. Meanwhile, his younger brother pointed accusingly at Ava and said,

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Percival Ignatius Weasley!" his mother snapped, hands on her hips. "You do not address our guests that way! Now apologize immediately!"

For a brief second, everyone held their breath because it seemed that Percy was not going to do as she had asked. After a moment, though, he regained his usual composure and said stiffly,

"I'm sorry, Miss Phillips. I didn't expect to see you here. At my house."

"Wait a second, Perce," Charlie interrupted, looking from Ava to his younger brother. "Do you two know each other?"

Before Ava could say anything, Percy replied loudly,

"Yes, Charles. Miss Phillips works for me at the Ministry. She's my assistant."

While everyone else worked furiously to digest this new development, something inside Bill's mind clicked. He had asked Ava yesterday where she worked, and she had replied that she was some "assistant to the assistant" at the Ministry, and Percy, as far as he could recall, was someone named Mr. Crouch's assistant, so it all made sense.

"Well, that does not give you permission to speak to her so rudely," Mrs. Weasley finally said, waving her finger at him admonishingly.

"And don't call me Charles," Charlie added as an afterthought, waving his finger, too. "I hate it."

Percy said nothing to his brother, only turned to his mother and said with a forced calm,

"Well, would you please tell whoever is making that ruckus to calm down? I have a _very_ important report due-"

"You mean that stodgy paper on cauldron thickness?" Charlie interrupted with a laugh.

"No, I mean the highly important and potentially groundbreaking report on the inefficiencies of-" Percy began, but his older brother cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Yeah, yeah. The stodgy cauldron report."

James giggled at his uncle's antics, and Bill felt disinclined to scold him.

Percy needed to lighten up.

It was here, however, that Percy noticed James, and stared at him as though he were something all together foreign. James stared right back, albeit with a barely concealed smile and a much more adorable countenance.

"Are you my uncle?" the little boy finally asked. Percy wrinkled up his nose and replied rudely,

"No."

"Yes you are, Perce," Charlie said, scooping up James easily. Bill was halfway to a protest when he saw the smile on his son's face. "He's Bill's kid."

Percy opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and stared at his eldest brother with a look that was half amazement, half disgust. It was somewhat similar to the look his father had given him last night, only far less disappointed and much more accusatory.

"He's your kid?" he said disdainfully, not even bothering to sweeten his tone. Suddenly defensive, Bill replied rather pointedly,

"Yes, and I'll thank you to call him James."

"That's me!" the little boy said, pointing happily at himself. Percy stared disbelievingly at Bill for a few more seconds, and then turned on his heel and left the kitchen without another word.

James's bottom lip began to tremble; he didn't understand why Uncle Percy had been so mean. He gave a mighty sniffle, and his mother was there the next second, almost as fast as though she had Apparated, gathering him up and hugging him close.

"It's okay, little one," she whispered, stroking his hair and making soothing noises to calm him.

"But Uncle Percy hates me!" James cried, hiding his face in the crook of his mother's shoulder and neck. "He hates me!"

"It's really no loss," Charlie muttered, for which he received a welt from his mother's ever present tea towel. Bill felt that he should do something, so he stood and rubbed his son's back.

"It's okay," he said awkwardly. "Uncle Percy doesn't hate you . . . He's just not good at meeting new people."

James cried harder, and Ava shushed him quietly. She looked over her shoulder at Bill, rather embarrassed, and said,

"Can you show me to the sitting room? He's getting a little fussy."

"Sure," Bill replied, leading them away to the small den down the hall. Ginny and Ron's friend Hermione were inside, looking through some Muggle fashion magazines that the latter had brought. Ginny looked up, and caught sight of her brother and his makeshift family.

"Ooh, is that James?" she asked, putting aside her magazine.

Ginny had found out about everything on Saturday night after the argument Bill and Charlie had had. They had forgotten to put a Silencing Charm on their room, and she had snuck over afterwards to find out what all the fuss had been about. Bill had only told her that she was an auntie and her new nephew James was coming over the next night, not wanting to tarnish the golden image he knew she had of him.

"Yes, that's James," he replied, checking the couch before allowing Ava to sit on it. Fred and George had been leaving their trick wands and exploding Bon-Bons all over the house, and he thought it best to avoid injuring the people he cared about.

Both Ginny and Hermione let out excited gasps and clambered forward for a closer look. Apparently, Ginny had spilled the beans to Hermione, too. Ava, who had been just as put out about Percy's rejection of her son as the little boy had, smiled and coaxed him out of his fetal position.

"James, this is your Auntie Ginny," Bill said, then looking at Hermione and saying, "And . . . Auntie Hermione." At that, the bushy-haired brunette raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly amused.

"You said I had one auntie," James said, though it was muffled in his mother's hair, from which he had refused to remove his face.

"Well, I forgot about Auntie Hermione," he explained. "So you have two aunties. Is that okay?"

There was a pause, and James muttered,

"Yes."

"Can we have a minute alone?" Ava asked quietly. Bill looked at her reproachfully, and she said, "Please? This is just a lot for him to take in, and . . . "

"It's fine," Bill said, cottoning on. Ava needed the break just as much as James did. "I'll come get you guys for supper, okay? Or you can come back before then. Whatever you want, it's all right."

Ava gave him a grateful smile, and turned her attention back to her son and his new admirers. Bill went back into the kitchen, and stood in the doorway, feeling out of place in his own home. It was only when Charlie motioned for him to join him at the table that he sat down, and even then he just sat quietly and watched his mother chop carrots and peel potatoes with surprising dexterity.

"So what's up with the little one?" Charlie asked casually, and Bill couldn't help but smile. He had a feeling that Charlie was just as susceptible to the charms and wiles of Baby James as he was.

"He's just cranky," he replied, tracing a burn mark on the table. "Percy's snit didn't help, either."

"Git," Charlie said idly, and he was again hit with the tea towel.

"Don't talk about your brother that way," his mother snapped. "He was probably just surprised to find out he has a nephew . . . I think we _all_ were," she added bitingly, and Bill hung his head. Now that her grandson was out of the room, his mother wasn't going to lay off him for a second. She gave him one last death glare as she swished out of the kitchen to go and fetch something from the garden in the backyard.

The second she had left, the flames in the fireplace turned a violent shade of emerald, and Fred came tumbling out, wearing a wicked grin that could only mean trouble for everyone in the immediate vicinity.

"What did you do?" Charlie asked, mildly interested.

"Nothing," Fred replied smugly. "Why do you ask?"

Both of the older boys rolled their eyes, knowing that Fred was lying and that they would only have to wait for his twin to get the real story. The flames turned green a second time, and then George appeared, carrying a large trunk and wearing a smug identical to his brother's. He and Fred heaved the trunk, which Bill assumed was the Potter boy's, across the kitchen and into the corner before Ron also emerged from the fireplace, staring inquisitively at his older brothers, as though trying to figure out what they were up to.

"What did you two do?" he finally asked as he sat down next to George.

"If we didn't tell Charlie, we're sure as hell not going to tell you," Fred retorted, giving George a superior, knowing sort of look.

It was quiet for a full minute, and then the flames turned green once more, and Harry Potter came spinning out of them, nearly losing his footing and stumbling drunkenly out of the fireplace. Fred's stoic expression finally cracked, and he eagerly jumped forward to help Harry up.

"Did he eat it?" he asked, not bothering to fill anyone else in on the story.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "What _was_ it?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," Fred announced proudly. "George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer . . . "

Everyone in the kitchen laughed, and Bill saw Harry's eyes dart to himself and Charlie. They'd never met before, and he figured the boy was wondering who they were.

"How're you doing, Harry?" Charlie asked jovially, reaching forward for a handshake. Harry returned it, nodding his reply. Bill got up, thoroughly aware of how sloppy he looked, what with his ripped up jeans and T-shirt of questionable taste, but as he extended his hand to The Boy Who Lived, he decided that if his appearance was good enough for his son, then damn it, it was good enough for the rest of the world, too.

There was a popping noise, and Mr. Weasley appeared out of nowhere, looking angrier than Bill had seen him in days . . . Which, given the circumstances, was amazing.

"That _wasn't funny_, Fred!" he yelled, which was even more surprising. Mr. Weasley never yelled. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," Fred said, almost too quickly. "I just _dropped_ it . . . It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" shouted Mr. Weasley. "You _knew_ he'd eat it, you _knew_ he was on a diet-"

Bill still had no idea who they were talking about, but had elected to watch the unfolding argument as though it was a slightly interesting tennis match, his head alternating between his father and younger brothers.

"How big did his tongue get?" George pestered.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!" his father yelled exasperatedly, as everyone in the kitchen laughed again.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley insisted, and secretly, Bill though he could be right. "This sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations!" Again, Bill secretly agreed with his father. "I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons-"

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" Fred cut in, as though someone had insulted both his honor and his mother.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," George added. "Isn't he, Harry?"

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," the Potter boy insisted.

"That's not the point! You wait until I tell your mother-"

"Tell me what?"

Bill could have sworn the temperature dropped a few degrees when his mother entered the room, her voice the deathly calm that comes before a hurricane. Her tone sweetened noticeably when she saw and addressed Harry, but it was frigid and dangerous again as she turned her attention back to her husband, who blanched. Apparently, telling their mother was supposed to have been an empty threat. He stumbled his way through a string of excuses before Ginny and Hermione appeared from the sitting room, signaling the mass exodus from the kitchen, from which only Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George were exempt.

"That was close," Charlie said as he and Bill escaped to the fresh air of the backyard. "I think we should stay out here for a while, let the dust settle and the smoke clear."

"Yeah," Bill said distractedly. He was wondering how he could go back inside and get Ava and James without getting caught in the crossfire, but then he noticed the pair of them sitting at the worn picnic tables by the broom shed, playing a clapping game together. It was such a picture of peace that Bill found it hard to believe that just twenty yards away, his younger brothers were being murdered by their mother.

Metaphorically, of course.

"You think she'll let us join?" Charlie said casually, though it was obvious he would love nothing more than to play clapping games with his three-year-old nephew.

"Only if you ask _nicely_," Bill replied with a smirk. His brother gave a laugh and said,

"Well, I'll try."

* * *

_**A/N: **__Aren't you glad I made it two chapters?__And how's Charlie doing? I think I've almost got him pinned down: sort of snarky, fairly mature, fun to write . . ._

_Reviews are love._


	8. The Mistake

**Warnings:** bad language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing.

* * *

_Chapter 8 – The Mistake_

Dinner that night proved to be a thoroughly satisfying affair, in terms of both the food and the conversation. After meeting all of his new uncles and aunties, James just couldn't decide who he wanted to sit with, and ended up making rounds about the table, gracing everyone's lap at least once.

Everyone, that is, except Percy, who quickly handed the child off to Grandpa Weasley as though it was the carrier of an extremely infectious disease. Bill noticed this, but decided not to say anything at the time. He thought that his younger brother just needed some time to adjust to having a nephew.

For all of James's energy and excitement, Ava seemed quieter than usual. She wasn't really the talkative sort anyway, but without the cuteness that was James bouncing up and down in her lap, she remained nearly silent the entire way through supper. The only time she spoke was to answer Mrs. Weasley's questions about her newly found grandson.

After everyone was completely stuffed, Bill helped his mother and Ava clear the table. Fred, George, and Charlie all insisted that they take care of James for a bit, and so whisked him away to the sitting room in a gale of laughter at one of Charlie's trusty fart jokes. Ginny and Hermione trailed behind, demanding to play with him, too. Ron and Harry decided to hover in the kitchen, not doing anything to help but not really being nuisances either.

"So you've got a kid?" Ron asked Bill after a while. Mrs. Weasley had gone rushing out of the room a few seconds prior, an echoing bang from the sitting room having stirred her from her pot scrubbing venture.

"Yes, Ron, I have," Bill replied, showing Ava where the silverware was kept. "You just figuring this out now? He's been here all evening."

"No, I just . . . " Here, the youngest Weasley boy stopped and seemed to think carefully over what he was going to say. "I just thought you'd have been, you know, married . . . "

"Yeah, well, I'm not," Bill replied curtly. He knew his little brother hadn't meant any offense, but the words still stung him. They were eerily similar to his mother's screeches a few nights before.

_"For Merlin's sake, William, I thought your father and I raised you better than this!"_

"I didn't mean anything by it," Ron was saying hurriedly. "I just thought . . . yeah. You'd be married. And mum would have gotten herself into a flap, and we'd all have had a big banquet out back, and Uncle Bilius would . . . "

The boy's voice trailed off here, as he saw the half reproachful, half warning look in his older brother's eye. Bill really didn't think Ava needed to hear about the traditions of Weasley family weddings, partially because some of them were rather disturbing, and especially since he thought she would take it as an accusation that she had deprived them of something important by not telling them about James sooner. The last thing he wanted was for Ava to feel unwelcome here with his family, since he had gathered that her own had abandoned her when James came along.

Ava, however, made no acknowledgement that Ron was even speaking. She had busied herself with drying and putting away the supper dishes, moving her wand with such speed and dexterity that it rivaled Mrs. Weasley's skills. Bill moved across the kitchen and tried to discreetly envelope her in an embrace.

"How are you doing?" he asked, arms around her waist, watching as she sent knives flying to the block at the other end of the counter. She sighed, and said quietly,

"All right . . . I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"Yeah, I suppose it has," Bill replied, resting his head on her shoulder. "My monstrous family is a lot to take in . . . James seems happy, though."

Ava gave a genuine smile here, and said,

"Yeah."

Mrs. Weasley came bustling back into the kitchen, a scowl on her face, muttering about Fred and George and all the trouble they caused. Ava looked up expectantly, obviously thinking that it was her son that was the problem, and said,

"Oh, is James being a pest? It's almost his bedtime, I should really just-"

"No, no, no, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, softening at once. "James is being an angel. It's my sons, they're more trouble than their worth some days . . . " Here, she glared at Bill, who was still wrapped around Ava, not doing anything to help tidy the kitchen, and Ron and Harry, who were now at the cupboards, taking down the food that Ava had just put away two seconds previous.

"Oh," the younger woman said awkwardly. "He gets rambunctious sometimes, and I only thought-"

"He's no trouble," Mrs. Weasley insisted, putting her hand on Ava's shoulder kindly. "It's so nice to have a little one in the house again. I had forgotten how much I missed it . . . " Her eyes seemed to glaze over, and she continued, her tone mistier than the Scottish moors in the morning, "The little pitter-patter of baby feet, the way their laughter fills the house, how they cuddle up to you for hours at a time . . . it's just heavenly."

_BANG!_

There was a second almighty crash from the sitting room, and then James's voice,

"Aww, Uncle George, I'm telling on you!"

The sound of his feet could be heard for a few steps, and was then drowned out by both the crashing of the three older Weasleys' footsteps and their protests at his tattling on them. A cry of, "And I'm Uncle Fred!" was also heard.

James reached the kitchen first, his little face a bright, Weasley shade of red, and the biggest smirk on his lips that was physically possible.

"Gramma, Uncle George broke it!" he announced, running up to her and tugging on the hem of her robes, as though she wouldn't have otherwise known he was there. "He broke the thing with the thing! I saw him do it!"

It was only now that Fred, George and Charlie appeared in the doorway, and saw their mother scooping up the extremely smug looking baby with a kiss.

"He's lying!" the twins said at once. "We haven't done anything!"

Charlie, Bill now noticed, was beside himself with laughter. What ever his brothers hadn't done, the second oldest Weasley boy had had no part in. He was just here to watch them crash and burn.

"Really?" Mrs. Weasley said testily. With James in her arms, there was no way she could fully explode at her sons, but Bill suspected she would pass him off to his mother in order to really do some damage.

"Really!" Fred insisted, while George nodded with such ferocity it looked as though his head would fall off.

"Yes you did, Uncle George!" James chirped happily. "I seed you do it, you broked it."

Before Fred could protest, and once again remind his nephew that his name was not George, Mrs. Weasley passed James to his mother and asked everyone but the twins to leave. When no one moved, she _ordered_ it and they nearly knocked each other over in their haste to escape the kitchen.

"So what didn't the twins break?" Bill asked Charlie as they strolled up the stairs to their bedroom, which would house both of them as well as Ava and James that night. Mrs. Weasley was still angry with her eldest son, and was not about to let him be completely alone with Ava for quite some time.

"The clock," Charlie replied, laughing. The Weasleys were in possession of an extremely rare clock, one that monitored the conditions and locations of all nine of the Weasleys simultaneously, and it was one of the most valuable things they owned. Even Dumbledore had never seen another one like it. "It should be an easy fix, though. They just knocked it over, there wasn't any spell damage."

"He broke it with his butt!" James screeched as they passed Percy's room. Bill realized this a little too late, and as he laughed at his son's antics, the door flew open and in it stood Percy, livid as ever.

"I really don't think it's asking for too much to have some peace and quiet," he said grumpily, glaring at Bill, as though everything wrong with the world was completely and utterly his fault.

"Well, this is our house, Perce," Charlie said. "There's always something happening. Thought you'd picked up on that already."

Percy said nothing, just glared at Bill. James had managed to wriggle away from his mother, and ran up to his uncle and hugged his knees.

"Uncle George said I had 'a hug you," he announced, as the third Weasley boy looked down at him, disgusted. "He said . . . he said you needed love."

"Get away from me," Percy said disdainfully, shaking James off his leg. The little boy staggered backwards and fell down, his face crumpling and tears forming in his eyes.

"What the hell, Percy?" Charlie said, reacting even before Bill. Ava immediately reached down and scooped up her son, who was crying. She rubbed his back and cooed to him, and Bill said incredulously,

"All he did was hug you!"

"Keep him away from me," Percy said stiffly. "I don't want anything to do with him."

"What are you talking about?" Bill demanded, stepping forward so he towered over his younger brother. Charlie, too, moved and stood beside his older brother, glaring at Percy. The two had never really gotten along, what with Charlie's athleticism and Percy's bookishness constantly being at odds, and this was the last straw. "He's your nephew!"

"No he isn't."

James wailed at this, and Ava tried to shush him. The last thing she wanted was to cause a row in the family, and she had a feeling that Percy rejecting her son would do just that. Nothing seemed to be able to satisfy him, though, and James continued to sob as both his father and his favorite uncle stared at Percy with sickened disbelief.

"What the hell do you mean?" Charlie spat. "Of course he's your nephew!"

"No he isn't," Percy repeated, eyeing the crying baby and his mother with contempt. "He's a mistake."

Even Ava, who was extremely good at hiding her emotions, was startled by this. She recovered well, but was unable to keep the hurt look out of her eyes afterwards. James was close to breaking the sound barrier with his crying, and Bill ordered Charlie to take both him and Ava up to their room.

"Like hell!" Charlie said, glaring at Percy. "I want to-"

"Do it."

The dangerous fire in Bill's eyes warned Charlie to obey, and he retreated up the stairs with a sigh. The sounds of their footsteps and the closing of the door faded, and then Bill rounded on his younger brother with something far past rage.

"Don't you _ever_ say that around my son again," he seethed, barely an inch from Percy's face.

"Why?" the boy challenged. "That's what he is, why are you even bothering to tell him something else?"

"He is not a mistake," Bill said, using all of his self-control not to shout. "He _is_ a wonderful child, he _is_ your nephew and you _will_ be nice to him from now on."

"No," Percy said simply, moving back into his room. His brother glared, ready to rage at him again, but the boy continued, "You know, Bill, I used to look up to you. You were Head Boy, you got top marks, and even though your job choice was less than desirable, you still worked really hard at it and almost made something of yourself. But now look at you."

"What's wrong with me now?" the eldest Weasley boy demanded. Percy rolled his eyes, and said,

"You made a mistake. A big mistake."

And with that, he slammed the door in his brother's face.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ I decidedly don't like Percy. How could he make the Cuteness cry?_

_Reviews are love._


	9. The Quidditch World Cup

**Warnings:** bad language, some violence

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing

* * *

_Chapter 9 – The Quidditch World Cup_

It took nearly an hour to calm James down after the ordeal with Percy. He sat on his mother's lap while Charlie and Bill alternated making silly faces and lame puns for him, all in the hopes of coaxing out a smile or giggle. After this didn't work, and when the oldest Weasley noticed that his brother's jokes were becoming steadily dirtier in nature, Bill pulled his son on to his lap and looked him right in the eyes.

"Listen to me," he said firmly. James sniffled. "You are not a mistake. Don't let anyone tell you that you are; don't believe it even if they do. You are my son, and I love you. And nothing mean old Uncle Percy says is going to change that, all right?"

James sniffed again, but nodded, curling up in Bill's arms and putting his thumb in his mouth. Charlie knelt down and held out his hand to the little boy, saying,

"And don't forget, you still have five non-git uncles that love you. So no worries."

"Nice, Char," Bill said as James finally giggled a little. "Real touching."

"Not a bad touch, I hope," he replied, sitting next to Ava, who looked as though she didn't know whether to laugh along or scold them. She stood then and started digging around in the ducky bag she had brought, and pulled out James's blue footy pajamas and a threadbare stuffed cat.

"Time to get ready for bed, little one," she cooed, scooping her son up while Bill tried not to be immature by grabbing him back. "We have a big day tomorrow."

"Oh yeah!" James said, suddenly excited. "The Kidditch World Cup!" As his mother readied him for bed, he looked up at Charlie and asked,

"Uncle Charlie, are you gonna sit by me? So I can know what's goin' on?"

"Don't you want to sit by your dad?" he replied, motioning towards Bill, who was now rooting through his suitcase for his pajama pants. Everyone in the room laughed at the little child's response.

"Yeah, but he doesn't know anything abouts Kidditch."

The sad thing was this was fairly accurate. Of course Bill knew about Quidditch, since half his siblings had played or were currently playing for the House team at Hogwarts, but he didn't really _know_ about it. He had always looked to Charlie to explain the finer points of the game in meticulous amounts of detail whenever something important happened.

"Well, if your mum says it's okay, I guess I will," Charlie was saying. James, now clad in his footy pajamas, clapped his hands in delight.

"Mummy, is it okay?" he pestered as Ava pulled her own nightgown out of the ducky bag. "Can Uncle Charlie sit with us? Puh-lease?"

"It's fine with me," she said, smiling. James grinned and bounced around the room, singing a tuneless sort of song of his own making.

"I'm goin' to the Kidditch Cup! And I'm sittin' wif my Uncle Charlie and my daddy and my mummy! And we're goin' to the Kidditch Cup! Tomorrow!"

"Come over here, you," Bill said. He was ready for bed now, too, and scooped up his son, who shrieked happily as his father carried him around the room, upside down and flailing wildly.

"Mummy, look! I's upside down!"

Ava pulled her nightshirt on over her head and turned to face her son, hands on her hips, trying look stern but failing spectacularly.

"And why are you upside down?" she demanded, inches from his little face. He blew a big raspberry and replied,

"Why _aren't_ you upside down? Ha ha, I win!"

Ava smiled, and returned to the ducky bag to get her toothbrush. After inquiring as to where the bathroom was, she left to finish her nightly routine. James plopped down beside his father on his bed, looking up at the ceiling and trying to count the dots and scuffs on it. Unfortunately, he could only count to three before running out of numbers that he knew.

"One, two, three . . . three . . . three . . . green," he said, screwing up his little face in intense concentration.

"Green is a color," Bill said gently, but James shook his head and pointed at the ceiling.

"No, green!" he insisted. Both older Weasleys looked up and Charlie laughed. There was, in fact, a huge green splotch on the ceiling right over Bill's bed.

"I remember when that happened," Bill said ruefully, turning to his brother. "You tried to hex me after you blamed me for taking your favorite socks or something . . . Mum was mad about that, wasn't she? I think we were grounded for a record two months for that one."

"No, no, no, you're wrong," Charlie replied, waving his hand grandly in his brother's general direction. "Well, yeah, the mark is from me hexing you, but our record grounding was from the time I sent you to St. Mungo's after I nailed you with my broom . . . because you'd stolen it. 3 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days."

Bill thought for a minute, then nodded.

"Yeah, you're right," he said. "But I got you back, you've got to admit. Had to regrow all the bones in your foot after I was done with you . . . "

"Yeah," Charlie agreed, an oddly nostalgic gleam in his eye. Ava walked into the room just as he said, "Good times, good times."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, and after putting her toiletries back into the ducky bag, she turned to face her son and the Weasleys. She stood awkwardly by the door for a few minutes, realizing that there were four people and two beds.

"Umm . . . " she began, and Bill cottoned on.

"Just come over here, I think the three of us'll fit," he said, patting the bed beside him. She cocked her head, and stood by the door for a few seconds more, but finally crossed the floor in a few steps and lowered herself down on to the bed. James immediately snuggled next to her, liberating a few more inches of the narrow mattress.

"It'll be tight," Bill began. "But then it's not like we haven't . . . yeah."

Ava looked like she wanted to laugh, but she didn't. Instead, she let out a monstrous yawn and laid her head on the pillow. James curled up in the curve her body made, and closed his eyes, thumb in his mouth and stuffed cat under his arm. Bill leaned forward and kissed his son goodnight, who cooed a muffled "Night, daddy" in response.

After a moment, he also pecked Ava on the cheek and lay down to sleep. He saw her smile shyly at him, and then close her eyes and pull James in close. Contented, Bill shut his eyes as well, and was asleep within minutes.

* * *

At some ungodly hour the next morning, Bill half-woke to the sound of someone rustling around in his room. He opened his eyes a tiny bit and tried to discern what was going on. James was still sprawled out beside him, taking up much more of the bed than anyone could have thought possible, but Ava wasn't there. Propping himself up on his arm, Bill saw that she was already up and dressed, digging through the ducky bag for her son's clothes. When she turned around to wake James, she saw that Bill was sitting up, and smiled guiltily.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, gently nudging James, who scowled in his sleep and scuttled closer to his father. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to . . .."

"'S all right," he muttered, flopping back down onto the pillow. "Why're you up so early?"

"I'm not Apparating to the Cup like you, I can't," she replied, poking the sleeping toddler a little harder. He made a bleating sound like a small goat, and curled up in a ball, refusing to wake. " . . . Well, I can Apparate by myself, but I can't with James. I'm taking the Portkey with your father and everyone, and they have to leave early."

It took Bill a very long time to process all this. Finally, being so tired, he just nodded. Ava prodded James again, forcefully, and he grunted, but opened his eyes grudgingly. He sat up and glared at his mum, who glared right back.

"Is too early, come back later," the little boy mumbled, rubbing his eyes drowsily. His mother scooped him up regardless, and helped him get dressed. The last thing Bill saw before he drifted off to sleep again was James being carried by Ava, waving over her shoulder and smiling sleepily, his stuffed cat still dangling from his hand.

The next thing that woke Bill up was a huge whump upside the head from a pillow that had been thrown at him by Charlie. Instantly sitting bolt upright, he grabbed his wand from his bedside table and sent a random curse flying in the direction he thought the projectile had come. When he heard his brother's unmistakable laugh, telling him he had missed his target by a mile, he rolled his eyes and flopped back down, slamming his own pillow over his head and muttering incoherently.

"Come on, you great, fat, lazy arse," Charlie said, becoming the world's biggest jackass by pulling the covers off his older brother, who winced at the sudden burst of cold air.

"Sod off," Bill said, hugging the pillow closer to his head. His brother refused to relent, continuing to smack him with the pillow until, quite fed up with the childish antics of his sometimes-spastic sibling, Bill sat up and growled at him to leave him alone.

Despite this, Charlie laughed in his face and smacked him again with the pillow. Bill would have hit him back, but right then, their mother barged into the room, raging at the pair of them.

"What are you two still doing in bed?" she yelled, hands on her hips. "Percy has been downstairs in the kitchen, ready to leave for ten minutes already!"

"Well, that's motivation enough for me," Charlie muttered, and a scowl appeared on Bill's face that had nothing to do with the fact that he was up before noon. Neither of these actions went unnoticed by Mrs. Weasley, who demanded an explanation.

"It's nothing," the older Weasley boy said quickly, mostly to keep his brother from telling her what had happened between the three of them last night. "When did dad want us at the campsite?"

"By noon, he said he would have everything ready by then," his mother replied, bustling out of the room. "You two should hurry, there's still some breakfast downstairs."

She closed the door with a sharp click, and Charlie, who had been biting his tongue since Percy had been mentioned, let out his breath in one long, heavy sigh.

"Git," he said, throwing his pillow back onto his bed.

"Don't say anything about what he said to mum," Bill warned, standing and stretching. The prospect of food was enough to make him haul his ass out of bed. "I don't want this to start a row."

Charlie snorted.

"Bit late for that," he scoffed. "Mum's pissed at you, and Percy hates your kid. I'd say that qualifies as a row."

"The thing with mum'll blow over in a couple months," Bill replied, pulling on a shirt that looked and smelled clean enough to wear. "She's ecstatic about James. And Percy . . . Well, he should come around eventually."

"Doubt it," his brother said shortly. "He called James a mistake, and-"

"Don't say that bloody word!" Bill ordered, whipping around angrily. "I don't want anyone saying it about him, because he isn't."

"Wasn't saying he was," Charlie said evenly. "Just saying Perce doesn't seem like the 'forgive and forget' type. You've got a huge black mark in his imaginary little book now, and it's a mark that won't go away."

"I don't give a piss," Bill announced, now fully dressed and making for the door. "I've got my own problems to deal with."

"Well said."

The two brothers made their way down to the kitchen and managed to scarf down some leftover oatmeal and toast before Percy strolled into the room.

"Speak of the devil," Charlie said under his breath to Bill, who didn't acknowledge either of his brothers. He fixed his attention on a spot above the fireplace, as unblinking and passive as he could manage. Percy, for his part, seemed to be ignoring his two older brothers completely, walking past them to pick up _The Daily Prophet_ from his father's place at the table and leafing through it disinterestedly.

Mrs. Weasley hurried into the room, and upon seeing her three oldest sons around the table, informed them that it was quarter to noon and that they should be going now. After pecking his mother on the cheek, Bill turned on the spot and was overcome by the familiar constriction of Apparition, feeling the air around him loosen only when the wooded campsite of the Cup came into view. Seconds later, Charlie and Percy appeared at his side, and the three of them made their way to the place where their father and the others had set up the tents.

"So, Percy, you going to be any less of a wanker today?" Charlie asked conversationally. Bill rolled his eyes and walked faster, making a noticeable gulf between himself and his younger siblings. He reached the campsite first, and was met with the sight of his father and assorted family members sitting around a blazing fire, cooking what looked like a second breakfast. He smiled a greeting, and looked around for his son and Ava.

Percy and Charlie caught up with him then, the former choosing a spot across the fire from the later, and refusing to look at either of his older siblings. No one else seemed to notice this, with the possible exception of Mr. Weasley.

"Where's James and Ava?" Bill finally asked, being halfway through a plate of eggs and sausage. As if on cue, the little boy came tearing out of the larger of the two tents beside the fire, screeching at the top of his lungs about his hatred of clowns and fish sticks. Fred and George followed after, also yelling about something wholly unintelligible, and Ava came out of the tent last, looking harried.

It only took a few seconds for James to notice his dad.

"Daddy!" he screeched, running around the fire pit to sit in Bill's lap.

"James! What did I tell you about running around the fire?" Ava scolded exasperatedly, sitting down beside the pair of them.

"That I shouldn't do it," her son parroted smartly, beaming up at his dad.

"Then don't," Bill said, trying to be stern. "We don't want you to fall in and get burned."

"Okay, I sit here then," the little boy announced, snuggling up to his dad contentedly. Bill smiled, and looked over at Ava.

"So how have things been so far?" he asked pleasantly.

"About normal," she replied. "James is excited to have so many new people to play with, I think now is the first time he's sat down all day . . . I know it's the first time I have, anyway." Here, she smiled sheepishly.

"I take it my brothers have been exacerbating the situation?" Bill said slyly. Ava looked left and right, and nodded quickly, as though she was afraid someone was watching. Bill nodded and turned to Fred and George, who were copying everything Percy was doing with exaggerated movements for comedic effect.

"Oi!" the eldest sibling yelled to them, and they stopped short, wearing identical inquisitive looks.

"Yeah?"

"Stop getting my son all riled up and leaving Ava to take care of him. It's rude."

Ava turned bright red, and tried to tell Bill that it was not a big deal, but both Fred and George looked at her guiltily and burst into a very dramatic apology across the fire from her. She laughed quietly and nodded her forgiveness, looking very much as though she didn't like being singled out like this. Bill noticed and muttered his own apology to her.

"It's all right," she said quietly. "I'm just shy. I'd rather just blend in."

"Hate to break it to you, love," Charlie interrupted, sitting himself abruptly between Bill and Ava, "but that isn't going to happen. You've got to be loud in this family if you want to get anything done."

"Uncle Charlie!" James said happily, crawling out of his father's lap and into his uncle's, looking thoroughly pleased. Charlie smiled and hugged the little boy, turning to Ava and saying,

"See? James knows how to get along."

"Charlie, be quiet," Bill ordered, sensing that Ava didn't like being told she didn't fit in. "You're being rude."

"Well soh-ree," his brother retorted, smirking. "Didn't know that was a capital offense."

"It is."

"Well, it's a good thing you told me then! I've a bit of a tendency to be rude, best to break the habit now. Don't want to get a life sentence in Azkaban for making a faux-pas."

"Shut up."

The rest of the day passed in a sort of happy haze, with Ava and Bill it in taking turns to make sure James didn't run around the fire, or play with the ropes that held the tents up, or wander too far from the campsite, or a hundred other things that only very small children and people with very small brains could get away with. Everyone, with the obvious exception of Percy, seemed to think that the little boy was a wonderful addition to the Weasley family, and went out of their way to include him in whatever they did. Ginny and Hermione fawned over him, while Fred and George showed him what happened to bugs and beetles when they mixed various hexes and curses, and Ron and Harry even let him come and sit with them while they traded Chocolate Frog Cards.

Night came, and Mr. Weasley gathered up his horde and ushered them towards the giant Quidditch pitch, taking impromptu headcounts every few minutes to keep everyone in line. James was perched on his mother's hip, pointing and laughing at all the vendors and peddlers that had cropped up in the last hours before the match. Bill bought green rosettes for himself, James and Ava at the insistence of Charlie, who said that Ireland was "definitely going to kick Bulgaria's collective arse."

"Don't swear around my kid," Bill scolded as they made their way to their seats.

"Right, because you never do," was Charlie's response.

"It's nothing to do with that," the older sibling insisted. "I don't want him to hear things like that, so don't bloody curse in front of him."

This retort earned him an arched eyebrow, and he shook his head, irritated.

"Just don't talk," he ordered, looking around for his son and Ava, who had seemingly disappeared now that the Weasley horde had reached their seats in the Top Box. He found them right at the front, James on his mother's hip, and looking out over the gigantic stadium, awe and wonder etched all over his shining face. He beamed when his father joined them, and pointed excitedly at the field.

"They're gonna play Kidditch there!" he said. "On brooms, wif the Q'affle, and the Snitch!"

"Yes, they are," Bill replied. He took James from Ava and turned around to find their seats. "Do you want to sit up front?"

"Yeah!"

Bill picked out three seats right in the front row and sat down. James, however, insisted on sitting in his mother's lap, so there was an extra.

"Uncle Charlie!" James called. Charlie had been mingling with some of the Ministry officials, mostly to embarrass Percy, who had been leaping up and waving about every time someone new walked in. Both Weasleys turned around when they heard the little boy, and only the older one smiled.

"What?" he called back.

"I saved you a seat!" James replied happily, pointing to the empty space beside him. "Right there, Uncle Charlie! You can sit there!"

He smiled and strode over to the seat his nephew had designated. Plopping down, he scanned the Quidditch pitch and started to fidget excitedly.

"I can't think of anything I love more than a good game of Quidditch," he announced.

"That's funny, because I can think of two things," Bill replied, smirking. "Women and dragons."

Charlie thought for a second, and nodded.

"True. Three best things in the world, they are. Women, dragons, and Quidditch . . . But, seeing as there's only the last here, I'll rhapsodize about that."

"And what am I?" Ava asked, part indignant and part amused.

"My mummy!" James said before his uncle could reply.

"Exactly," Charlie said. "You're my nephew's mum, and I think Bill already claimed you anyway."

Ava blushed, and Bill smiled smugly.

All around them, people were beginning to file into the Top Box. The Minister of Magic himself even came at one point, along with his Bulgarian counterpart, and he greeted Harry warmly; Charlie nearly lost it when he saw Percy's jaw drop at this. James was staring interestedly at the house elf seated a few rows behind them, pointing rudely and squealing. Ava tried to keep him facing forward, but he was adamant about it. It was only when a trio of blonde, richly-dressed people came filing in that he tore his eyes away from the funny creature.

"Ah, Lucius!" the Minister said, and both Bill and Charlie whipped their heads around to see none other than Lucius Malfoy, looking disdainful as ever. The skinny, pinched-faced woman beside him was introduced as his wife Narcissa, and his rat-faced son Draco seemed to loathe Ron, Harry and Hermione with every fiber in his body.

As Lucius exchanged brief, tense, and forced pleasantries with their father, Bill and Charlie shared a dark sort of look. While they didn't know the entire story, they had overheard a few conversations between their parents that hinted at threats the Malfoys had made towards their children, and it was no secret to anyone who knew anything about the two families that there was a Montague-and-Capulet style feud between them, minus the star-crossed lovers.

The Malfoys filed into their seats, and as they passed, James waved jovially. He was too young and new to the Weasley family to know about the aforementioned vendetta, and was having too good a time to care anyway. Lucius stopped short and gave the child a quick once-over, which was accompanied by a patronizing sneer.

"Good God, is that yours?" he asked Bill, making the connection between father and son quite easily.

"Yes, that's my son," Bill replied evenly.

"Just when I thought your family could sink no lower," Lucius said coldly, hinting at James's illegitimate status. Both Charlie and Bill glared, and it was the former who said angrily,

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing."

And with that, Lucius swept away to his seat.

"Stupid, limey, elitist, aristocratic piece of piss," Charlie muttered, sinking into his own seat and turning his attention back to the pitch, taking deep, slow breaths as though to calm himself.

"Don't worry about him," Bill was saying to Ava, whose face had fallen at what Mr. Malfoy had brought up. " . . . Charlie's description is fairly accurate, actually."

James, however, seemed to have missed the disdain in the man's voice, and was eagerly clapping and pointing to Quidditch field, where the match was beginning.

The pre-show display by both teams' mascots was thoroughly amusing to Bill, who was, for some reason, not affected quite as badly by the veela's dance as Charlie was. The younger Weasley was completely out of his seat and halfway to jumping out the window when James screeched with laughter, and seemingly broke the spell. He turned a violent shade of red, and sat back down with a pained sort of expression on his face.

"You tell _no one_ about that," he muttered to Bill, making a threatening motion with his hand as he did so.

The leprechauns were also hilarious, and both Weasleys knew enough not to pick up the gold they threw down on the spectators, knowing it would be gone before the next morning anyway.

Finally, both mascot groups cleared the field, and the match began for real.

James was amazed by the speed and skill of both teams, clapping and laughing and squealing maniacally as ever, and was also entertained by Charlie's analysis and anecdotes as the match wore on. Charlie had been the best Seeker the Gryffindor team had ever had, and had even been approached by recruiters for the English National Team when he left Hogwarts, and thus understood all the minute nuances and finer points of a game of superbly-played Quidditch. Bill listened too, feeling that his son, who had never actually seen a live game before, knew more about the game than he did . . . which was pitiful.

Ava seemed to become at ease as the game played out, even going so far as to offer her comments on what was happening and engage in some playful banter with Charlie about the players on the Irish team. It did Bill's heart good to see her getting along so well with his family, because he wanted nothing more than for her to finally have someone accept and love her and James as much as he did.

When the match ended, and what an ending it was, the players from both teams flew to the Top Box to greet the Minister and, in Ireland's case, receive the Cup. James stared, slack-jawed, and seemed to be so excited that he would soon explode from the sheer force of it all. He had changed hands so many times during the match, alternating between Ava's, Bill's, and Charlie's laps, and was now snuggled in his mum's arms, watching the players with a sort of worship Bill usually attributed to fanatics of any kind.

As the Weasleys assembled and made their way back to the campsite, James found his voice again and got into a very animated and energetic discussion about the match with Charlie. They were both using vague hand gestures and words that wouldn't be found in any respectable dictionary, but seemed to get their point across fairly well in any case.

Everyone gathered in the boy's tent, and Mr. Weasley finally caved to the demands that they be allowed to have another cup of tea before bed. Bill and Ava settled themselves at the small table, while James was sitting with his favorite uncles and still jabbering about the match.

"So, did you enjoy that?" Bill asked Ava, accepting a cup of tea from his father as he sat down beside his son.

"Yes, more than I thought I would," she said quietly, also taking a drink from her almost-father-in-law. "I usually don't like sports that aren't ballet. They're so violent."

"Ballet isn't a sport," Bill said, and Ava glared. It was the first strong reaction he'd ever gotten from her about anything, and it was disconcerting.

"It is _so_ a sport," she replied hotly. "And one that takes a whole lot more skill than flying around on twigs and hitting balls with sticks."

As Bill snorted into his tea, and warned her that she'd better not say anything like that around Charlie, Percy came wandering up to the table. He caught sight of Bill and promptly turned away, looking miffed. Mr. Weasley wrinkled his brow, turned to his eldest son, and asked quietly,

"What was that about? Percy hasn't spoken to you or Charlie all day, and he's usually so thrilled when you come home."

"It's nothing," Bill said firmly, more to convince himself of this than anyone else. Raising a skeptical eyebrow, and sending him a look that all but told Bill the subject would be pursued later, Mr. Weasley announced that it was time for bed. Ava gathered James and carried him off to the girl's tent, saying a fairly sweet good-night to Bill, and at his own insistence, Charlie.

As they got ready for bed, Charlie talked to his older brother about James.

"Your kid is the most awesome kid I've ever met in my whole life," he said, yawning halfway through.

"Well, he is mine," Bill said by way of an answer.

"No, that's not why," his brother replied, flopping down on the cot he was to sleep in. "He's just . . . damn it, there aren't even words for his sheer greatness . . . I want my kid to be like that."

"I certainly hope it isn't," a new voice said. It was Percy, and he continued, "I would dearly like to have one nephew that wasn't a complete failure."

"No one asked you, you whiney piece of piss," Charlie snapped venomously, while Bill winced and tried to ignore the whole thing. He lay down on his own cot and attempted unsuccessfully to block out the ensuing argument.

"And, if you paid one speck of attention to him, you'd know your nephew kicks more ass than anyone who ever kicked ass before," Charlie was saying.

Percy snorted.

"What a scathing retort," he scoffed. "Are you going to call on the wisdom of Peeves next?"

"Sod off, you bloody stupid git," was his brother's response. "And if you say anymore shit about James, I swear to Merlin I'll-"

"Would the both of you just shut it?" said a different voice, one of the twins. It was enough to silence them.

It took Bill a long while to fall asleep, and once he did, it seemed as though he had only been that way for a few moments before his father was shaking him awake.

"Quickly, get up!" were the first coherent words he heard, and as he sat up groggily, Bill became aware that there was something amiss. As his senses caught up with him, he heard screams and shouts and loud bangs coming from all directions.

Beside him, Charlie was pulling on his boots over his trousers, and Percy was looking around wildly for his shirt.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?" Bill asked, pulling his own shirt on over his pajama pants and Summoning his boots from underneath his cot.

"No idea, but it sounds horrible," Charlie muttered, hastily mis-buttoning the front of his jacket. A high pitched shriek cut through the air, and Mr. Weasley called to them again, sounding much more desperate than before.

The three oldest sons followed after him once they were dressed, and barely heard his yelled directions to their younger siblings. Bill looked back only once, and that was to see Ava sheparding the rest of their group towards the forest, a large bundle in her arms that was certainly James. For some reason, this comforted him, and he ran twice as fast to catch up to Charlie.

The source of all the noise and horror was a fairly small group of people in menacing masks, who were amusing themselves and frightening everyone else by Levitating the Muggle campsite owner and his family 50 feet above the ground, destroying everything in their path. A large group of Ministry officials was already on the scene, but not able to do very much to stop them. The cries of the two children filled Bill with such overwhelming rage, and he sent a hex flying at the closest masked person, not caring if he harmed or maimed.

The man staggered backwards, having been caught square in the chest, and then stared after Bill, and retaliated with a jinx of his own, which he dodged easily. The masked man laughed in a cold, drawling sort of way.

It was on now.

Bill threw another, far more dangerous curse at the man, and at the same time, deflected a burst of red light that came from behind him. He was now right in the middle of the fray, where he felt he could do the most use. Charlie was a few feet away, taking on three separate people, and looking as though this was the sort of thing he did every day. He didn't see Percy or his father anywhere.

A jet of green light almost caught Bill at the waist, and he sidestepped it just in time. Whirling around to the direction it had come from, fully intending to send another green jet right back, he was struck on the arm by something extremely nasty. He felt the skin rip open and saw the blood fly, and the sheer force of whatever jinx had hit him knocked him off his feet. As he lay on the ground, he heard the cold drawling laugh from before, and tried to stand.

Something small and red haired darted in front of him though, making its way to the masked man he was dueling, fists up and screeching. Bill shot up, and with a terrible, horrible, nauseating feeling rushing over him, he realized what it was.

James.

* * *

_**AN: **__This is the longest chapter I've ever written, and it's certainly taken me long enough. Hopefully, my attempted "action sequences" aren't made of as much fail as I think._

_Reviews are love._


	10. Unexpected

**Warnings:** violence, bad language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing

* * *

_Chapter 10 – Unexpected_

There was nothing Bill could do but watch as his three year old son raced up to the masked man, shrieking at the top of his lungs. James grabbed the man's robes and tugged furiously. Startled, the man looked down, his wand still raised. With a sudden rush of realization, Bill became aware that the man intended to kill his child.

He shoved himself up, ignoring the pain in his wounded arm, and raced forward. The redhead was nearly there, inches from the man's face, when he was blown off his feet by something behind him. He rolled over in the grass, his eyes refocusing just in time to see the reason.

No more than two feet behind him stood Ava. She looked livid, wand drawn at arm's length, but somewhat disheveled in a borrowed jacket and boots that were too big. It was a shock to see her so, the calm, pleasant demeanor Bill had come to know cast aside completely.

The masked man was shoved back before he could make another move. Ava battled with unrivaled ferocity, sliced the air and dodged spells with a kind of feline grace. She and her opponent sent bolts of light flying in all directions, and in the end, it was Ava who won. She let loose with a Stunning Spell that Bill felt whoosh by him even though he was many yards away. The man fell backwards and landed with a resounding thud. As his mask flew in a different direction entirely, the sheaf of white blonde hair that slipped from beneath it revealed his identity.

Bill wasn't sure if Ava noticed this, though. She was shrinking back into her usual self, running toward James and scooping him up in her arms, whispering a mixture of chastisement and relief.

The scene around them changed once more as the sky was lit up with an eerie green light. Shrieks and cries filled the air as everyone at the campground looked up and saw the skull in the sky, and then heard the cracks and pops of many people Disapparating simultaneously. All of the Ministry wizards and those who had come to help them turned around and were surprised to find the people they had been dueling had vanished, seemingly frightened away by the glowing Mark in the sky. It was as though they hadn't been fighting anyone at all.

Up above, the Muggle family was beginning to fall, the Levitation Charm having disappeared with its creators. More cries filled the air as the Ministry wizards moved en masse toward the family with wands raised, and caught them before they hit the ground.

"Bill, what in the name of You-Know-Who's You-Know-What are you doing down there?"

The eldest Weasley boy looked up to see Charlie, now sporting only a half a shirt, running over to him.

"Having a lie in," Bill replied, heaving himself up as his arm protested sharply. The younger sibling noticed the gash, and made a low whistle.

"You should get that checked out," he announced, and his brother glared.

"Really?" he snapped, uncharacteristically irritated. "Because I was just going to leave it. I've always wanted an infected battle scar."

"Don't get your pants in a knot, mate," Charlie said evenly, looking around for the rest of their family. "Where's everyone else?"

"I don't know," Bill said. In his fear for James, he had almost forgotten that his younger brothers and father had joined in the fray as well.

Almost.

"Holy shit! Ava, what are you . . . ?"

Charlie looked behind him, having followed Bill's preoccupied gaze, and now saw the brunette sitting on the ground, cradling her son. For a split second, he feared the worst, and raced over, kneeling beside her as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

James, however, was nowhere near dead. He beamed when he saw his uncle and father. It was as though he hadn't just been in a battle for his very life.

"Daddy, daddy, did you see me?" he asked excitedly.

"James, you mustn't ever run away from mummy again!" Ava said exasperatedly, standing now with him on her hip. "You could have been . . . "

Killed.

She wasn't able to finish, so Bill did instead.

"Those people could have really hurt you, James," he said sternly. "You will never do that again, do you understand?"

The little boy's smile faltered, and he nodded meekly, hiding his face in his mother's hair with a sniffle.

His grandfather and Percy caught up with them then, the latter having apparently been struck in the face because his nose was like a hosepipe for blood. They all shuffled back to the tent, which was suspiciously empty.

Mr. Weasley went pale.

"You all stay here, I'm going to find the others," he said, turning around and making to leave the tent. This order was met with a fair amount of resistance.

"Like hell!" Charlie said, following his father to the opening of the tent.

"They're my family as well, I want to help," Percy demanded, standing. Charlie stared at him in amazement, shocked at this sudden show of emotion from the usually stoic annoyance that was his sibling, but nodded and took it in stride.

Bill wanted to speak up too, but before he could say anything, his father had whirled around and was saying,

"You will all _stay here_ until I get back."

"But dad-"

"That's not-"

Arthur Weasley was out of sight before they even finished. Charlie sat down at the table, sighing heavily.

"Shit," he said idly, and James giggled.

"Don't you say it," Ava warned, sitting down as well. She had yet to let go of her son since she had defeated Malfoy in the duel, and Bill suspected this had just as much to do with her fear of losing him again as it did with her anger at him for running off.

James smiled wickedly, though, and was about to say the word anyway when he caught sight of his father's arm.

"Daddy, daddy!" he shrieked, pointing wildly at the gash. "You have a cut!"

Bill looked down, and was mildly surprised as he saw the wound. The bleeding hadn't slowed very much, and it occurred to him that he should probably do something about it. He grabbed the top sheet from his bed and ripped off a large strip, winding it tightly around his arm to stem the blood flow.

"How'd you get that?" Charlie asked casually, not bothering to do anything about his own ripped shirt.

"I don't remember," Bill replied. "I think I was trying to block something but it hit me dead on."

"You tried to block something?" Charlie said skeptically. "With your arm? When your wand was right there in your hand?"

Bill nodded, and his brother rolled his eyes.

"You're right stupid," he said.

"It'll be fine, I just have to get it to stop bleeding," Bill replied, taking a seat beside Ava and James.

"The important thing is _you_ believe that," his brother scoffed, then turned to address James, who was squirming against his mother's death grip. "And what did you do to get in trouble?" He obviously had meant this in a joking manner, but James grinned and replied,

"I runned away from mummy."

It was like someone had attached a weight to Charlie's bottom lip, his jaw dropped so fast.

"What?" he said, dumbfounded.

"I runned away from mummy so I could help daddy," James repeated, and everyone in the tent stared at him. "I was gonna help daddy and be brave like a Giff-indor, jus' like you."

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Bill and Charlie both stared shouting at each other.

"Why would you tell him shit like that?" Bill roared, pointing accusingly at his younger brother.

"What? So now this is all my fault?" he yelled.

"You made him-"

"I didn't make him do anything!" Charlie cut in angrily before his brother could finish. "Don't you dare blame me because you're-"

"Would the two of you just be quiet?" Ava said, bouncing a now-crying James on her knee to calm him. "You're upsetting James."

Bill and Charlie were still glaring at each other as they sat down, but managed not to shout again.

"May I please hold him? Bill asked, reaching for his son. Ava looked torn for a minute, but handed him over anyway.

"I didn't want to make you mad, daddy," the little boy said. "I jus' wanted to be brave, like you and Uncle Charlie."

"Looking for danger doesn't make you brave," Bill said, and James crumpled. "Your mum and I were scared you would get hurt, and it was very irresponsible to run away from your mum like that."

"What does ir'sponsible mean?"

"It means you didn't do the right thing," Ava replied sharply. "You should have stayed with mummy like she told you."

Before anyone else could say a word, Fred, George and Ginny came tearing into the tent, looking like they were being chased by the devil himself.

"Where's everyone else?" Charlie asked, getting up to help them to the table. Fred went slightly pale as he replied,

"We . . . We thought they were with you."

"Where's dad?" George asked weakly.

"He went out looking for you and the others," Bill said. James waved shyly at Fred and George, who were his favorite uncles after Charlie. They both smiled back at him, but it was clear that they were distracted.

Ava stood and immediately went to the small kitchen and started brewing tea. Bill found it strange as she handed him a cup that this shy woman was the same one who, just minutes before, had knocked a grown man unconscious without breaking a sweat.

Time ticked by slowly, impatience and worry thick in the atmosphere of the room. Everyone stared blankly at each other without really seeing anything, lost in their own thoughts. Bill was watching Ava distractedly as she remained the only person up and moving, buzzing around the room and compulsively tidying things or refilling teacups.

Fred was the one who broke the silence.

"You know what I heard?" he said quietly. "I heard they found Lucius Malfoy in with the people who were Levitating the Muggles."

Ava didn't make any sign that it had been she who was responsible for his capture.

"Seems like him," George said bitterly.

"He'll probably worm his way out of it somehow," Charlie spat. "That git has more money and connections than I have freckles."

James giggled at this, and it made everyone smile, despite the serious situation they found themselves in.

"My mummy broke someone!" he said happily, pointing unnecessarily at Ava.

"She broke someone?" Charlie repeated, thoroughly amused. "Who?"

"James, honey, be quiet," Ava said quickly, scooping up her baby from Bill's lap.

"No, out with it," Charlie said. "Who'd you break?"

"It's nothing," she murmured, fussing with James distractedly.

"She doesn't want to tell you, just drop it," Bill said quickly, and Charlie glared, but didn't pursue the subject any further.

The door to the tent opened once more, and in filed Harry, Ron, Hermione and Mr. Weasley.

Everyone began pressing Mr. Weasley for information, which he supplied haltingly. Percy was stricken out of his stupor at the news that Mr. Crouch's house elf had been found with the wand that set the Dark Mark, and his indignation about it started an argument with Hermione. Ron pestered everyone to know what was so important about the "that skull thing," which Mr. Weasley and Hermione had to then explain in excruciating detail.

"It's getting late, and we have to leave early tomorrow, so everyone get to bed!" Mr. Weasley finally said, quite exasperated. There was a loud collective sigh and then the shuffling of many feet as the eight Weasleys, one Potter and one Granger retreated to their respective beds. Bill followed Ava over to the girl's tent to tuck James in and say goodnight.

"That was quite an evening," he said as he sat on Ava's bed while she dressed James in his pajamas.

"That's one way of putting it, I suppose," she replied quietly. Once he was dressed, James curled up on his father's lap, stuffed cat under his arm.

"Why . . . Why did you go after Malfoy?" Bill asked cautiously. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Ava smiled humorlessly and pulled on her nightshirt. She took James from Bill and laid down, pulling the covers over both of them before simply saying,

"He went after my baby."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Sorry for the delay. Epic writer's block and all that. I'm starting to love Ava, she's a little more kick-ass than she lets on. And with Tom Servo-Charlie, this is one awesome group of people. _

_I channeled "The Lion King" a little bit there in the middle, but yeah. Bill watched it when he was little, mkay?_

_Reviews are love._


	11. Complications

**Warnings:** bad language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing

* * *

_Chapter 11 – Complications_

The next afternoon, Bill found himself lounging around the Burrow, trying unsuccessfully to distract himself with the old photo albums and tattered books in the sitting room. Ava and James had gone home early that morning because Ava had work and James was in daycare. They would be back for supper later in the day, at the insistence of Mrs. Weasley, but until then, Bill was extremely bored.

Charlie strolled in, eating something, and flopped down in the armchair by the wireless set.

"Can I have some of that?" Bill asked, pointing to the sandwich.

"Piss off and get your own," was Charlie's reply.

"Wanker."

"Bastard."

They sat in silence for a while, Charlie eating and Bill leafing through his parent's wedding album, until Mrs. Weasley came bustling in from the kitchen.

"Bill, this just came for you," she announced, placing a thick parchment envelope in front of him and swishing away distractedly, but not before she could scold Charlie for eating in the living room.

"Who's it from?" Charlie asked interestedly, shoving the whole of his sandwich in his mouth and leaning over to get a better look.

"None of your damn business, that's who," his older brother snapped. He opened the letter with a flick of his wand, and scanned the contents with a grimace.

It was a letter from his former girlfriend, Pamela Vander-Cleeve. They dated nearly the entire time Bill had been working in Egypt, but he had broken it off with her a few weeks before he had gone back to England.

Pamela had been fine for the occasional shag, but she was not the kind of person Bill could see himself with for the rest of his life. She hated children, and the idea of an entirely monogamous relationship sent her into seizures of epic proportions. He had told her all this and it hadn't gone to well. The phrase "nuclear meltdown" came to mind, actually.

The letter he held now was written in ink so pink that he could barely see it against the parchment, and it took him nearly ten minutes to decipher what she had written. It was a weird combination of a declaration of undying love and a solemn vow of revenge. Bill tossed it aside and sighed.

"That bad?" Charlie said, reaching for the discarded letter. Bill snatched it back.

"Don't read my mail, you effing wanker," he said irritably. The mere reminder that Pamela existed was enough to give him the male equivalent of PMS.

"Why not? It's not like there'd be anything interesting, you're the lamest person in the entire world," Charlie snorted. "_My_ mail, however, would make your head spin."

"Piss off. None of your friends know how to write."

This was enough to make Charlie leave, muttering about how dragons were terribly misunderstood creatures.

Bill rolled his eyes and sank back onto the couch. His mind was buzzing now, and he didn't know what to do. Pamela's letter, aside from being completely annoying, had been a forceful reminder of his life up until now. A life spent partying and living it up in the most literal of ways, and he was ashamed. In less than a week, he was due back in Egypt and he had never been less eager to get back to work in his entire life.

What was he supposed to do? He had responsibilities here; he couldn't just walk out on Ava and James. Again. He had promised that he would be there for them now, and he meant every word of that promise. There was no way that he would let James spend another day without a father, or let Ava spend another day dealing with the consequences of their collective actions alone.

But, on the other hand, he had responsibilities in Egypt as well. He couldn't just stop going to work, and leave his coworkers and bosses to sort out everything after he was gone. He loved his work, and he had to admit, he didn't want to quit. Yes, he loved James and he was growing to love Ava, but Egypt was everything he had ever worked for. To give it up would be terrible.

Bill leaned forward and dug the heels of his hands into his closed eyes. He couldn't figure out a way to both keep his job and raise his son. Unless . . . He could bring Ava and James to Egypt!

Resolved, Bill grabbed Pamela's note and crumpled it into a ball, as though to throw away that part of his life entirely. He would ask Ava tonight, and pray that she was up for it.

* * *

Ava and James arrived with Mr. Weasley and Percy, having come from work at the Ministry with them. James immediately ran to his father and gave him a hug, while the three adults discarded various cloaks and briefcases at the door.

"Daddy! Guess what I made at daycare today!" the little boy said excitedly.

"What?" Bill said, scooping him up easily.

"I drew a pi'ture of my family!" he announced proudly. "Mummy, mummy! Can I has my pi'ture? I wanna show daddy!"

"Give mummy a minute to breathe, James," Ava said, sounding exasperated and tired. James bounced up and down, insisting that he show his father the picture. Sighing, she picked up the ducky bag from before and dug around it before pulling out a large piece of parchment. James snatched it up, chirped a "thank you", and starting waving the picture in front of his father's face excitedly.

"See, there's you and mummy and Uncle Charlie and Gramma and Grampa and Uncle Fred-George," James said, pointing to otherwise undecipherable blotches on the parchment. Bill noticed all of them, with the exceptions of "mummy" and "Auntie Minnie and Uncle Harry Potter", had been drawn with a bright red crayon.

"That's very nice, James," Bill said. The little boy beamed, and then demanded to go show his picture to his grandma. His father put him down, and as the little boy scampered off to the kitchen, Ava let out a tired sigh.

"I swear they put crack in his juice at the daycare center. He's always so wound up," she said, and Bill couldn't help but laugh.

"Maybe you should find a different daycare then," he said, grinning as he wrapped her in an embrace. "That sounds like it could be a problem later on."

Ava leaned into his hug, draping her arms around his neck.

"I just need to sit down for a bit," she said resolutely. "Then I can look after him until bedtime."

"I'll sit with you," Bill announced, leading her down the hall to the living room. "I have to ask you something anyway."

Ava sat down on the couch beside Bill, wrenching off her shoes and putting her feet up on the table with a sigh of relief. She leaned back and looked expectantly at the redhead, saying,

"What did you want?"

"Well, I don't know if I told you," he began carefully. One wrong word and his plan would be doomed to fail. "But I'm due back in Egypt in about a week, and I-"

Ava's eyes clouded over, and she sat up straight.

"It's fine, you don't have to finish," she said stiffly, and he stopped mid-sentence. "I'll just take James and go then, it's all right."

"Wait, what?" Bill said, utterly confused.

"You have to go back, I get it," Ava said in that same stiff voice. "It was nice you came back to see us, but you've got work. I understand."

It took a few moments, but Bill finally cottoned on. She thought he was going to abandon them again.

"Oh, no, Ava, it's nothing like that!" he said in a rush. "I'm not leaving you and James, not again. I promised I'd be there for you and I meant it."

Ava was quiet for a moment, looking at him critically.

"Then what are you saying?" she asked. "That you're getting a job here?"

"No, no, I was going to ask if you both wanted to come with me," Bill said with a smile.

"For a visit?"

"No, forever. Come and live with me in Egypt."

It was dead silent for a full minute. Ava stared at Bill as though he had grown an extra head. Finally, she broke the silence.

"I . . . I can't."

Bill's smile fell.

"Why not?" he asked. "Don't you want to?"

"It's nothing to do with that," Ava said quickly. "I couldn't begin to afford it, and I can't just drop everything here at a week's notice and move to Egypt!"

"Don't worry about the money, I'll take care of that," Bill said, putting his hand on hers. "And I can be a bit late back to work if you need to sort things out here. I don't think my boss would-"

"No, Bill, I _can't_," Ava repeated. "I can't just dump my life here and move away. I have too many things going on, it's insane."

"Then what are we going to do?" Bill demanded. He didn't think he was asking for too much. From everything he'd heard her say, both her jobs were horrible and she was always looking for a better one. There were plenty of jobs over in Egypt, and he was sure that both she and James would love it. "I can't just stop working there, I have important shit going on, too."

"There's no need to get angry with me," Ava said timidly, moving away from him when he cursed.

"Honestly, Ava, what do you expect me to do?" he continued, aggravated. "That I just quit my job and walk away from everything I've worked for? That's insane, it'd be like saying everything to this point has been a big effing waste of time, and . . . "

His voice trailed off as he saw tears form in Ava's eyes, and all at once, it hit him.

Because of their actions that steamy night four years ago, she had had to do exactly that. She had been forced to give up her dreams and deal with the consequences of _both_ their actions while he had been free to do whatever the hell he wanted. And now he was all but demanding that she do it again.

"Ava, I'm sorry . . . " he began quietly, reaching forward to put his arm around her. "I'm sorry, I just . . . I didn't mean it, you don't have to come if you don't want to."

Ava sniffed and wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

"Then what are we going to do?" she said softly. "I might be able to go there for a visit, but it couldn't be anything long term."

Bill was silent, thinking. He had wanted so desperately for them to come to Egypt with him. It had seemed like the perfect solution. Now, there didn't seem to be anything he could do except . . . quit.

Was that really his only option? Bill racked his brains, grabbing for ideas or things that would be better than quitting. Ava couldn't leave for more than a few weeks, he was supposed to be back in seven days and his bosses weren't expecting him to come back with a family. It seemed hopeless. He'd have to do it, leave his job.

A small voice somewhere deep inside had the audacity to wonder whether this would all be worth it. The second the thought formed, Bill was horrified with himself. Of course it would be worth it. He had always wanted children, before he had even known what Curse Breaking was.

His father had once told him a story about how when he was five or six, a lady in Diagon Alley had asked little Bill "what he wanted to be when he grew up." There was a proud gleam in his father's eye when the child had replied, without missing a beat, "A dad."

There was no question in his mind that this would be worth it.

"I could put in for a desk job here at Gringotts," Bill said quietly. Ava's eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh no, Bill, don't-" she began, but he cut her off gently.

"No, Ava, that's what I'm going to do. You've already given up enough for James, and it's time I started taking responsibility for my actions . . . It'll take a month or two for the transfer to go through. Do you think you could come with me for that long?"

"Maybe a month, but definitely not two," Ava said softly, looking at her feet. Her cheeks were red, as though she was ashamed or embarrassed.

"I'll do what I can," Bill said simply. "I'm not leaving you two on your own again, I swear."

Ava didn't reply at once, just looked away quietly.

"I never asked you to do this," she said, glancing up at him. Bill smiled as he replied,

"I know. It was my choice."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ This took long enough, don't you think? Sadly, not a lot of baby James but he was being difficult. : (_

_Reviews are love._


	12. Far and Away

**Warnings:** bad language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing.

* * *

_Chapter 12 – Far and Away_

Ava and James spent a lot of time at the Burrow over the next few days. They usually came home with Mr. Weasley and Percy, James always running off to find his dad or one of his uncles while Ava shouted after him to use his inside voice. An impish smirk was the only reply she got.

"You might as well let him yell," Charlie said one day. He and Bill were sitting around the kitchen table, peeling potatoes for dinner that night.

"If I just let him get what he wants all the time he'll be spoiled," she replied, striding over to join them. James had scampered off to see what "Uncle FredGeorge" was doing. "And I don't want that, it says as much about the parent as it does about the child."

"Lighten up, Aves," Charlie countered. She was around him enough to have earned herself a nickname, even though she insisted her name was already short and therefore she didn't actually need one. "He's just excited. I can't blame him, our family is pretty awesome."

"Be quiet," Bill said, sensing that the last thing Ava needed right now was to get into an argument about parenting. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Because you're an authority on parenting," his brother quipped. There was an unspoken law that Charlie was the only one who was allowed to call Bill on his shit, and he thoroughly abused the privilege.

"Just drop it," Ava said. She played peacekeeper at times like this. Bill sighed and stared distractedly at the potato he was peeling, while Charlie flicked his wand lazily, sending discarded skins flopping into the dustbin and onto the floor.

"Have you gotten time off yet?" Bill asked Ava after a few moments. She was going to ask for a few weeks vacation, but even if she didn't get it, he was going to take her and James to Egypt anyway.

"I've asked," she replied in the fluttering sort of tone she adopted whenever she was nervous about something.

"And?" Bill prompted.

"The thing is," she began haltingly, putting down her wand and looking away. "I have to ask your brother for time off, because he's my boss, and I don't think he's going to let me."

Bill rolled his eyes, not at Ava but at his selfish prat of a brother.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" he asked. Ava shook her head.

"I … I don't think that would do much good," she said timidly. "He's still mad at you, from what I can tell."

"Let me at least have a go," Bill said resolutely. "I'm his older brother after all, that's got to count for something."

"Not much," Charlie snorted, but then quieted at his older sibling's glare.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," Bill announced, turning back to Ava. "He's a smart kid, I'm sure I can reason with him."

No matter how confident he sounded, though, he wasn't sure he could.

* * *

The next morning, Bill slept in far too late. He had meant to get up early enough to catch Percy on his way out the door, but now had to make the trek to the Ministry via Floo Powder. Not only did he not know exactly where his younger brother worked, Bill didn't really fancy the idea of getting into a violent argument with him in public.

After narrowly avoiding his mother, who was bustling around and muttering to herself as she finished the last of the "end-of-summer" laundry, he found himself whooshing out of a fireplace in the Atrium of the Ministry. On every side of him, people were rushing around and ignoring him completely. They were all on their way to do big, important, government-related things; no one had time for the bemused redhead who looked as though he had ended up here completely by accident.

Bill rifled through his memory, trying to remember which department his brother worked in. Hadn't Percy been going on about it all summer? Hadn't he mentioned the exact name at least four times in every conversation they'd had since he'd been home? Now, though, it was just gone. The Memory Gnomes had stuck again, damn it, and it looked as though he'd have to ask a random passerby with the hope that they'd have the answer.

Just as Bill reached out to tap a smart looking man on the shoulder, Percy appeared out of nowhere, arms full of folders and papers, looking harried. His brother jogged over to him, calling,

"Percy!"

The younger turned, scrunching up his nose to shove his glasses back onto his face, and said distractedly,

"Yes? What is it? I'm very busy, and can't-"

"Here, let me take some of those," Bill said before he could finish, lopping off the top of the stack of folders and tucking it under his arm. Percy seemed to recognize his older brother now, and instead of smiling or thanking him, he continued briskly down the hallway and said flatly,

"What do you want?"

"Nothing, I was just coming in to see you," he replied. It was very difficult to say this with any meaningful amount of sincerity. Percy wasn't fooled.

'Well, I'm too busy for an idle visit, I have to get these files to Mr. Crouch before 10:30 or he'll be furious."

He made to leave then, holding out his hand for the folders Bill had taken from him, but the older man didn't return them.

"I'll make it quick then," he said. "Has Ava asked you for time off yet?"

"Not recently, no," Percy said impatiently, hand still extended.

"Can you give her a few weeks off?"

Percy raised his eyebrow at his older brother, and said slowly,

"Why are you asking for her? If she needs the time off, she should come to-"

"She thinks you're still … mad at her and me about the whole James thing," Bill cut in quickly, and as he continued, his younger brother sighed and stared fixedly at his shoe. "So she wanted me to take care of it. She would really appreciate it…"

"Why?" Percy said, his head snapping back up. "Why does she need off?"

"I have to go back to Egypt in a few days, and I want her to come with. I can't leave her and James here by themselves until I come back."

"But you're gone for months at a time," Percy said, and Bill could have sworn he sounded a little upset about this, as though he didn't like the thought of his older brother simply disappearing for a year. "A few weeks won't make much of a difference, and I really have to get these files to-"

"No, no, it'd only be for about a month," Bill said desperately, still withholding the stack of folders. "I'm going to put in for a transfer so I can work up at Gringotts, and live here with them from then on. She'd only be gone for-"

"Oh."

Percy's tone had changed, gone hollow, and he was staring at Bill with an undecipherable sort of expression, like he was trying solve a complex Arithmancy problem that was written on his forehead. After a few moments of awkward silence, Bill began,

"So, can she have-"

"Yes, yes already," Percy said irritably, waving his hand dismissively as though his older brother had been pestering him about this for three days straight. "Just get her to tell me the dates she needs off, and I'll figure something out."

Bill was shocked, and he blinked a few times and shook his head slightly before saying,

"Oh, okay then … well, thanks Perce, I'll make sure-"

"Yes, yes, just give me the files!"

He reached forward and snatched them away before his brother could react, and was gone in a huff before the second was out.

A few stunned seconds had to pass before Bill could move again. He had expected Percy to put up much more of a struggle than this, and to be difficult and stubborn like he always was. Percy never gave in about anything; he was always dependable … Even if that dependability usually pertained to being a pretentious, obstinate bother.

He shook it off, though, and turned on his heel and walked back to the row of fireplaces to queue up behind a frustrated looking wizard in a neon green robe, glad at least that he'd be able to keep his promise to his fledging family.

* * *

"Uncle Charlie, why does you have to go?"

James was latched around his uncle's neck, sniffling tearfully into his jacket.

Today was the day Charlie was going back to Romania, and everyone had gathered around the fireplace to see him off. The school-aged kids had all left yesterday, which had triggered a torrential downpour from James as he said good-bye to his uncles and aunties, biological or otherwise. Bill and the rest of them weren't leaving for Egypt until the next morning.

It was interesting to note that Charlie, the gruff dragon-wrangler who had once broken his arm during a Quidditch match in his fourth year and shrugged it off like it was nothing more than a paper cut, seemed to be holding back a few tears of his own as he said good-bye to his nephew.

"I have to go make sure the dragons are okay,' he said. "They get lonely and cranky when no one's there to take care of them. A cranky dragon isn't something you'd ever want to come across, is it?"

"No," James muttered, still wrapped around Charlie's neck.

"You'll see Uncle Charlie again soon," Bill offered. "At Christmas, probably."

"But that's in a million years!" James wailed, hugging his uncle closer. "I'll be _old_ then!"

"You'll still be three, honey," Ava said calmly, stroking his hair. "And we can write to Uncle Charlie every day, right?" She looked up at him pointedly, and he replied heartily,

"Yeah, of course."

Now didn't seem to be the time to mention that Charlie was absolutely horrible about responding to his mail.

James seemed happy enough about this, and stopped sniffling. He still wouldn't let go of his uncle though, gripping onto his shoulder as Mrs. Weasley came swishing into the living room with a hamper of food for her son to take on the trip.

"There's some sandwiches in there, and some of the leftover chicken from last night, and some bread, and probably a few apples. I can't remember now, but you should be all set for today at least," she said, patting him on the head as though he was still 11 and on his way to Hogwarts for the first time. Bill half expected her to turn and order him to look after his younger brother while they were at school.

"Well, I should get going," Charlie said awkwardly, trying to pry James off his shoulder so he could give the boy back to his mum.

"Good-bye sweetheart," Mrs. Weasley said, giving him one last bone-crushing hug. "And you promise me you'll be safe, do you understand?"

"Yes mum," Charlie said dutifully. It always seemed to escape her that he worked with fifty-foot tall fire breathing dragons, and that her idea of "being safe" was pretty much not an option.

"Bye," Bill said, knowing that his brother hated long farewells. Charlie nodded in his direction, and accepted a quick hug from Ava. He gave James one last encouraging pat on the back, promised his mother _again_ that he would "be safe," and then stepped into the flames and whirled out of sight.

Dinner that night was a quiet affair, especially when compared to the week before, as the nine Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Ava and James had all crowded around the scrubbed table in the kitchen. It was leftover night as well, since Mrs. Weasley hadn't yet mastered the art of cooking for less than six people. Ava and James left to go pack just as the sun was going down, the little boy already dozing off in his mother's arms.

"You should try to get here around 7:30 tomorrow, if you can," Bill said, standing beside the fireplace, which had been getting far more use than usual these past few days. "Our Portkey isn't until around 8:15, but it's better to get there at least half an hour early."

"All right," Ava said. She smiled and continued, 'I've never been to Egypt before. I'm so excited I don't know how much sleep I'll get tonight."

"It's better than anything you can imagine," Bill replied, fondly recalling the splendor of Valley of the Kings at dusk and the thrill of creeping through passageways that had been untouched for millennia. "Trust me."

Ava grinned again.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," she said, and reached up to plant a swift kiss on his nose before stepping into the fireplace and disappearing in a rush of smoke and emerald flame.

* * *

Bright and early the next morning, Bill forced himself out of bed and got ready. He made one last sweep of his room to see if he'd forgot to pack anything, and then took his suitcase down to the kitchen, where his mother already had breakfast on the table. It was strange to see only his father and Percy sitting down to eat, and Bill actually thought there was something deeply wrong with such an empty arrangement.

Ava and James showed up just before 7:30, the little boy fussing about one thing or another.

"He didn't get much sleep," Ava explained as Mrs. Weasley scooped up her grandson and rubbed his back. It just occurred to her that she wouldn't get to see him again for an entire month, and fully intended to give him that month's worth of cuddling in the next ten minutes.

"That's all right, we have only have two Portkeys today and the layover isn't that long," Bill said, gesturing to the chair beside him as he poured her a cup of tea. "He can crash on the couch at my flat while we figure out what to do."

Ava smiled, and sipped her tea slowly. Percy seemed to be watching her furtively from behind his section of the _Daily Prophet_, but Bill was in a good enough mood to not call him on it.

Immediately after Ava finished her breakfast, Bill gathered her and James up and ushered them to the fireplace. Mrs. Weasley managed to give him a food-hamper of his own, insisting that since James hadn't eaten anything, they'd need it for the trip. She tearfully gave her grandson one last hug, and as she wiped her eyes, she ordered Bill,

"You had better be safe, too, and don't you even think about staying longer than you promised."

"I won't mum,' he said wearily. She always went through this with him and never Charlie, even though Curse Breaking was actually much less dangerous than Dragon Keeping.

"And if I hear anything about tombs falling in or ancient curses-"

"You won't, mum."

"And keep that unruly hair of yours out of the way."

"I will, mum."

Beside him, Ava was failing at keeping a smirk off her face. Nothing had been said about her own long hair, but she had sense enough to wear it in a bun most of the time.

Mrs. Weasley nodded distractedly, and gestured ineffectually with her hands as she said,

"All right then. We'll see you on the 31st, and not a day later."

"All right," Bill said, reaching forward and giving her one last hug. Ava and James were also pulled into the embrace, the latter giving his grandmother a sloppy kiss that reduced her to tears.

Once they broke apart, Bill stepped into the fireplace first, dropping the Powder at his feet and saying clearly, so that Ava would know how to follow,

"International Portkey Office, Middle East division."

As the flames roared up around him, he didn't even try to hide the smile that came to his lips.

He was finally going back.

* * *

_**A/N: **__Writer's Block is officially Public Enemy #1. If you see it, hit it with a baseball bat. That, and college finals, driver's permits, and my own birthday. All of these things have happened since I last updated. O.O --__ That's me._

_In related news, I do believe there's only going to be about five more chapters. And maybe a sequel... _

_Also, 25 reviews! -blushes- I'm flattered. : )_

_Reviews are love._


	13. The Wolf and the Sow

**Warnings:** bad language

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing.

* * *

_Chapter 13 – The Wolf and the Sow_

"Daddy, what's this?" James pestered for what seemed like the four thousandth time that day, waving yet another ancient artifact in his father's face. Bill turned away from the kitchen table where he and Ava were sitting, looking over take-out menus to find something suitable for dinner that evening.

"It's a canopic jar," he replied, taking it from him gently and placing it beside him on the ever-growing pile of artifacts the boy had dug up from his flat.

"What does it do?" he asked eagerly, bouncing up and down on his toes.

"It used to hold the organs from a mummy," Bill said, and James scrunched up his face in disgust and shook his hands vigorously, as though to rid them of any stray bits of body parts. "The embalmer would take out all their organs and put them in jars like these so that the person could keep them for the afterlife."

"That's icky!" he exclaimed before running off to the living room to find something else to inquire about.

"Don't you think that was a bit much?" Ava said, amused but still a bit reproachful.

"Not really," Bill replied. "History's history."

"I suppose," she mused, looking distractedly at the menu for a Chinese place. "He gets that from you, you know."

"Gets what?" he asked, interested. "Canopic jars?"

"No, the whole inquisitive thing," Ava said with a smile. "He told me can't wait to learn to read so that he'll be able to read the encyclopedia… I was never really into that sort of thing, though."

Bill grinned.

"I think I can sway your opinion," he said. "Egypt is fascinating, even to people who hate history."

"I never said I _hated_ it," Ava insisted. "I just didn't like it enough to go and collect… what are these again?"

She held up a small vase, the deep blue ceramic covered in thick black lines and hieroglyphics.

"It's a ceremonial vessel," Bill informed her. "It's amazing, the guys over in the Ancient Herbology department can tell what was kept in it, even though it hasn't been used for centuries… I think this one just had water, though, they couldn't find anything."

"Fascinating," Ava replied, though it was clear from her tone she found it anything but. She smiled after a second, though, and added, "In a completely geeky sort of way."

"That's me," Bill said. "Curse Breaker by day, geek by night."

Ava laughed so hard at this she snorted, causing James to scamper into the room to see what was wrong. Seeing that she was all right, he hopped into her lap and started rooting through the pile of artifacts he'd collected, looking for things he could learn more about.

Just as he'd unearthed a tiny wooden figure, there was a knock at the door. Bill rose to get it, saying,

"What the… I just got back, who the hell is that?"

James's face lit up when he heard his dad swear, and started an "awww!" that was eerily reminiscent to the Muggle police sirens.

Bill could hear Ava shushing him as he walked down the hall to the front door.

"Hello?" he said warily, opening the door open a crack to find Wolfgang Gluck, his long time co-worker, standing in front of him.

"Wolf!" he said, opening the door wide and gesturing madly for him to come in. "How'd you know I was back? I just got in a few hours ago."

"You said you'd be back today, don't you remember?" he replied, his words barely understandable because of the thick German accent he spoke with.

"No, not really…" Bill said, leading his friend down the hall into the kitchen.

"Vell, you're on the schedule for tomorrow," Wolf explained. "I figured you'd be back today at least… And who is this?"

He was talking about Ava of course. She stood to greet him, shaking his hand daintily. James was nowhere to be seen, and Bill assumed he'd rushed off to look for more artifacts.

"Wolf, this is Ava," he said. "Ava, this is Wolf. Sometimes we call him 'Der Bose Berliner,' the Mad German."

"I'm actually from Hamburg," Wolf added, grinning. "But then it vould be 'Der Bose Hamburger' and I couldn't go vith that."

Ava snickered at this, and Bill continued,

"I've worked with him for what … three years now?"

"Ya," Wolf said, nodding. He turned to Bill and smirked, "I thought you veren't seeing anyone. Should I assume that vas a lie?"

"Ah ha, you're hilarious Wolf," Bill said hastily, hoping he'd take the hint. He still hadn't told Ava about the situation with Pam, and didn't actually plan on doing so unless absolutely necessary. For his part, Wolf simply raised his eyebrow and scoffed before dropping the matter.

"Are you going to introduce me to the little one then?" he said with resignation, pointing to the floor. Bill looked down to see James huddled behind Ava's knees, eyeing his father's friend with a look that was one part interest and two parts fear.

"Yeah, this is James," Bill said, and then knelt down to his son's level. "James, do you want to say hello to Daddy's friend Wolf?"

James nodded, but hid his face in his mother's jeans instead. Bill scooped him up and stepped towards Wolf.

"I worked with him here in Egypt, he knows almost as much as me."

"Some vould say I know even more than you, Veasley," he said with a laugh. Bill rolled his eyes before asking,

"So did you just come by to bother me, or was there a real purpose?"

"Mostly the bothering," Wolf admitted. He sat down beside Ava, rooting through the pile of artifacts James had gathered up. Just as Bill was about to sit down, there was another knock at the door. He left James with Ava and Wolf while he went to answer it.

"Yes?" he said, opening the door to the least expected and least appreciated sight in the world: Pamela. She grinned and shrieked,

"Oh Billy, I missed you!" Throwing her arms around him, she invited herself in and started down the hallway to the kitchen, already speaking faster than Bill could process. "And how was it back in England? I take it the Quidditch was great, I heard about the match in the news. God, it must have been exciting. Was that cute brother of yours there? The one after you, Chaz or whatever his name is? I always thought-"

"Pam!" Bill said, catching her by the arm and tugging her back to the door. "What are you even doing here?"

She stared at him as though he had just asked what his name was. Laughing, she replied,

"Coming to visit you, silly. I knew you'd miss me while you were all alone in England, so I decided to come and cheer you up." Here, she wrapped her arms around Bill's neck and made to kiss him. He pushed her away, head spinning. It was like she had eaten a big bowl of amnesia for breakfast.

"Why would you think that?" he demanded. Pam's expression darkened and she stepped back. "I seem to remember leaving you a week before I even went back home. And I wasn't alone there, so … It doesn't matter. Just, you know, leave."

"I _thought_ you were joking," she said tartly, arms crossed. "I know how you get sometimes…"

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't," Bill said, opening the door. "Especially the part where I told you I didn't want to see you again."

"Oh Billy," Pam giggled, now acting as though this was all some sort of humorous misunderstanding of the romantic comedy variety. "It's just like you to be so overly dramatic. I know you love me."

Bill slammed his face into his palm and groaned. It had been just like this when they'd broken it off over a month ago, only Pam had been even angrier and had thrown more things at him. He was about to tell her to leave again when a little voice called from the end of the hall.

"Daddy, Mr. Woof says that … Who's that?"

Both Bill and Pam turned, and the former replied,

"No one, James. She was just leaving. What did Wolf say?"

Pam would not be gotten rid of so easily.

"I'm not no one," she retorted. "And is Wolf here? Uhg, he's so nerdy, Billy, I don't know why you're even friends with him."

James had made his way down the hall by this point, and was standing at his father's feet, holding his arms out expectantly. Bill scooped him up as he told Pam,

"First, I've asked you not to say shit like that about Wolf, and second, yes, you are no one."

"Ouch Veasley," Wolf called from down the hall. Both he and Ava had followed the little one, and Bill now felt like he would rather be Avada-ed than have to deal with what he knew was going to happen between his former and present girlfriends.

Pam ignored Wolf and instead stared at Ava for a good five seconds, giving her a dismissive once over before turning to Bill and demanding,

"Who's she?"

"That's my mummy!" James informed her happily. Pam looked at him with disgust and disdain.

"Is he serious?" she asked Bill, as though the little boy had just told her he was the Minister of Magic.

"Pam, I'm pretty sure my kid knows who his mom is," Bill snapped, and instantly regretted it. He was setting a horrible example for his son, but it was difficult to keep from doing anything else. He'd never intended for the two women to meet, and now that they had, he just wanted to be rid of Pam as quickly as possible.

"Your kid?" Pam was saying, the disbelief on he face as clear as a splash of red paint. "Tell me this is a joke, Billy, honestly. You hate children."

Bill could have smacked her. In his arms, James's face had crumpled and he was beginning to snivel. Ava strode toward him and swept him up easily, shushing him and rubbing his back as she cooed. Bill couldn't meet her eyes. It was true that he had never said anything even remotely like that, but at this point, Pam knew him better than Ava did and he wouldn't blame the latter for taking her at her word.

"I have never said that," he growled.

"Oh really?" Pam retorted, still eyeing the boy with contempt. "I seem to remember you saying something along those lines, and-"

"You also seem to remember me telling you that I loved you, which never happed either," Bill spat. "So you'll understand if I'm not swayed by your alleged memories."

Pam's eyes flashed, but before she could say anything Bill continued,

"Now, I'm going to ask you one last time to leave, and if I have to again, it won't be so polite."

"But Billy," Pam whined.

"There's the door," Bill interrupted, jabbing at it with his thumb. "Use it."

"Fine," Pam said huffily, shoving past him. "But just so you know, I'm _will_ to be coming back and we _will_ be continuing this conversation sometime when _she's_ not around."

"Why are you still here?" Bill snarled. Glaring, Pam gave one last angry huff and stormed out the door, slamming it furiously behind her.

The second she was gone, Bill sighed angrily and turned to Ava, still unable to meet her eyes. She probably thought he was a huge wanker right now, and he knew he deserved sentiment. There wasn't even anything he could think to say that would convince her otherwise.

Wolf broke the uncomfortable silence.

"So Veasley, are we going to eat tonight or vill I have to starve?"

"Chinese sounded good," Ava offered timidly. Bill smiled and said,

"Yeah. Could you go ahead and order it Wolf? I want to talk to Ava."

"Make me do all the vork, vy don't you," he replied, but sauntered off to the kitchen anyway.

"Listen, I'm really sorry you had to meet her," Bill said earnestly, reaching out to her and James. The little boy had stopped sniffling, and was playing with his mother's hair distractedly.

"It's fine," she said calmly. "I suspect you have a lot of girlfriends like her, and it really isn't any of my business."

Bill wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a jab or not, but he shrugged it off.

"It's just, she and I weren't really anything, but she had this delusion that we were, but she didn't want to commit … It's just complicated."

"I can see that," Ava said, adding timidly, "But you … you weren't dating her when you went to England were you? I mean, you'd broken it off with her before tonight?"

"Yes," Bill said emphatically. "About a week before I left. There was no way it was ever going to be anything more than … well, you know … conjugal-type relations."

Ava raised her eyebrow, and James turned to his dad.

"What's that mean?" he asked interestedly.

"Grown-up things," Bill replied diplomatically, taking his son into his arms. "Grown-up things you don't get to learn about until much later."

The three of them walked back to the kitchen and sat around the table. Wolf joined them a few minutes later, saying their food would be ready in about half an hour. James resumed his dig through his father's stuff, and pulled out an interesting looking trinket to ask about.

"What's this one daddy?" he asked eagerly.

"This one's an ankh symbol," Bill replied, reaching for a much smaller version he always wore on a chain around his neck. James "oohed" appropriately, and held out his hand expectantly. His father grinned and unfastened the chain, placing it in his son's hand.

"What's it do?" the little boy asked as he turned the tiny gold pendant over in his fingers.

"It's the Egyptian symbol for life," he explained.

"They would wear it for protection," Wolf chimed in, also eager to impress the boy.

"I want one," James announced, trying to clasp his father's around his neck and failing miserably.

"I'll get you one of your own," Bill assured him, taking his own back.

"One for mummy too," James said, pointing to her as though they had all forgotten she was there. Ava waved her hand and said quickly,

"No, really, I'm fine, I-"

"It's cool, Ava," Bill said. "I think I can spare the extra Galleon."

She blushed, and looked away as though the wallpaper had suddenly become a once-in-a-lifetime event.

"Thanks," she said shyly.

"No problem," Bill replied cheekily.

And it really wasn't.

* * *

Later that evening, after James had passed out on the couch and long after Wolf had left to go back to his apartment, Ava was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. She and Bill would be sharing his bed since the spare bedroom in the flat was currently being used as an all-in-one study, den, and storage facility. She'd been hesitant at first, but Bill pointed that they'd already slept together once, and James would probably waltz into the room sometime in the middle of the night and keep it from happening a second time, she agreed.

"You have a really nice apartment," Ava announced as she came into the room and stowed her toothbrush in her suitcase. Bill was stretched out across his bed wearing his pajama pants, pouring over a transcribed manuscript for work the next day.

"That'll happen," he said distractedly. As she sat down on the bed beside him, he looked up and winced.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm easily absorbed in my work."

"It's okay," she replied, sitting down next to him and reading over his shoulder. "Are we going with you to the tombs tomorrow?"

"Yeah, if I can get you guys in," Bill answered. "My boss'll be fine with you, it's just James is so little. We don't want him to break something or run off. It's easy to get lost down there if you don't know your way around."

"I see… Other than that, will it be dangerous?" Ava asked quietly, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

"Not if you stay near me, no. If you go wandering off, you might set something off… Why? Are you scared?" Bill asked interestedly, looking up from the manuscript.

"No, I'm just… I'm not scared," Ava stammered. It was obvious she was lying.

Bill laughed.

"I'll take care of you, don't worry," he said, pulling her down to his level and planting a kiss on her forehead. She wasn't convinced.

"What if something tries to get James? Like you said, he's so tiny, I'm afraid he'll get hurt."

"We're only allowed in tombs that are being investigated, and that means there'll be a bunch of people in each one," Bill said calmly. "Even if he does run off, someone will find him and he'll be safe… Anyway, do you really think I'd put you guys in danger?"

"Me maybe," Ava said with a laugh.

"Because you could get out of it yourself," Bill conceded. "But not James, not ever."

"I believe you," Ava said simply, moving closer to him and sighing.

"You should," he said, smoothing her hair away from her face. "… And I'd never really put you in danger either, if I could help it."

She laughed into the pillows.

"We'll see how well that turns out."

"I guess we will."

Bill gathered up the papers from the bed and put them in a pile on the floor. Sighing, he pushed back the covers, allowing Ava and himself to slide between them. As he pulled her close and turned out the light, he whispered softly to her,

"Goodnight."

She turned to look at him, smiling, and replied with a swift peck on the cheek.

"Night, Billy."

And with that, they fell asleep.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Bah. This story takes so long to update, I'm such a slacker sometimes._

_I might have lied earlier, there's only three more chapters. With any luck, it will be done by the end of August. And there is definitely going to be a sequel._

_Reviews are love._


	14. Curse Breaking 101

**Warnings:** nothing, for once

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing

* * *

_Chapter 14 – Curse Breaking 101_

Bill had made a slight miscalculation. While he and Ava were certainly fine with getting up at an ungodly hour to get to the Valley of the Kings, James wasn't. He whined while his mother tried to help him get dressed, scowled all through breakfast (none of which he ate), and stomped noisily around Bill's flat while his mother and father got ready.

Ava seemed used to this charade, and handled it easily. She never yelled, except when James started hitting, and managed to calm him down into a state of quiet grumpiness before they left at 7:30 that morning.

They elected to use the Floo Network; Bill usually Apparated but Ava didn't feel comfortable doing so with James. This meant they had to leave earlier, since Bill knew from experience the Floo became increasingly crowded the closer it got to 8:00. He didn't mind getting there so early, as he was one of those rare people who was happy in their work, and planned on showing Ava and James around in the extra time he had.

There were only two other people at the Valley base camp, which was really just a tent with an oddly placed fireplace and a few tables, when they arrived: Bill's supervisor Mr. Hosni, and Wolf.

"Ah, it's good to see you back, Weasley," Mr. Hosni called from behind his desk. Bill nodded, smiling, and gestured to Ava and James.

"Is it all right if they come along with me today?" he asked. Mr. Hosni looked appraisingly at the pair as he walked over to them.

"Who are they?" he inquired. "You know we can't let just anyone wander around down in the tombs…"

"Oh, well, the little one is my son, James, and this is my girlfriend Ava," Bill explained. Ava shot him a little smirk when he introduced her, but didn't say anything to contradict him. Mr. Hosni, however, looked puzzled.

"I didn't know you had a son," he said slowly, staring at James, who was still feeling grumpy and was openly sulking in his mother's arms. "And I thought you were dating that blonde woman, what was her name?"

"It doesn't matter," Bill said quickly as Ava looked distractedly at the ground. "I can assure you that that's my kid and his mum."

There was a long silence as Mr. Hosni looked from Bill to James and back again, as though he had x-ray vision and could compare their bone structures to find a match. Finally, he sighed and said,

"All right, just keep that little one with you. I won't be held responsible if he gets lost or hurt."

Ava paled at that, and instinctively hugged James closer. Bill assured the man he would, and headed over to the table Wolf was occupying.

"We're heading to 43 today, right?" he asked, checking the schedule pinned to the tent pole.

"Ya," he answered simply. "It's mostly cleared out, ve're just going there to make sure." He seemed miffed about this, and Bill knew why. Wolf lived for danger, and loved being the first to go into a new and potentially deadly tomb. Bill shared the same adrenaline addiction, but was not keen on admitting it to Ava.

"That man was joking, right Bill?" Ava said quietly. "James wouldn't really get hurt here, would he?"

"Not if he stays with one of us," Bill said firmly, looking more at his son than Ava. James seemed completely unconcerned with this bit of information though, finding the lint on his mother's shirt far more interesting.

"Did you hear that, James?" Ava said sternly, looking him directly in the eyes. "You need to stay with your daddy or Wolf today. No running off or you could get in big trouble."

"Yes, I heared you," James said grumpily.

"Ve should get going," Wolf said, map in hand as he shouldered a rather large bag.

"Right then," Bill replied, following his friend out of the tent and down to the tombs. Ava trotted after them, pointing out things to James that she thought he'd find interesting. He remained quiet, pouting.

"Come here, little one," Bill said after about a minute of this. He lifted the child out of his mother's arms and put him on his shoulders. "You'll have to cheer up soon, or else the mummies will come and get you."

"Humph," James mumbled, arms crossed defiantly over his chest. He glared and sulked for a second longer, but then instantly perked up and starting pointing wildly at something off in the distance.

"Daddy, daddy, look!" he shrieked. "There's a door in the sand!"

Bill smiled and nodded. They had just entered the main corridor of the Valley, which was buzzing with activity even this early in the morning. A few of his fellow Curse Breakers waved at him, and called out brief greetings. Most people there, however, were the maintenance workers. They came every day to make sure the tombs were structurally safe to enter, performing magical touch-ups to reinforce the ancient walls and narrow passageways to minimize the chance of collapse.

The group walked further down the path, the sand dunes rising high above them on either side. The sides were punctuated every few feet with a tomb entrance, most of which were open and had people bustling around inside. Each one offered a brief glimpse of an unknown world: brilliantly painted walls illuminated by the early morning sunlight and a staircase that descended into darkness.

Bill pointed to a particularly busy entrance on their right.

"Do you know whose tomb that is?" he asked James, who shrugged and replied,

"Nope."

"That's Tutankhamun's."

Ava made a small noise that was half squeal, half astonished gasp, while James stared at his father, bewildered.

"Who?" he asked, staring at the tomb.

"Some people call him King Tut," Bill explained, a little disappointed that his son hadn't recognized the first name.

"Oh!" James squealed, clapping his hands. He knew who King Tut was, and eagerly pointed to the entrance. "Can we go there, please? Please, I wanna see the face!"

"The face?" Wolf said with a laugh, and Bill looked up at James, smiling.

"I think he means that gold mask thing," Ava said quietly. It all clicked for Bill. The gold and blue burial mask of Tutankhamun was one of the most famous Egyptian artifacts, and the fact that his son wanted to see it filled him with pride.

"I don't think that's in there," he said, and James wilted. "But we could go look tonight, after my shift's over." He knew for a fact that the mask was actually up in a museum in Cairo, but it would be fun to take his son to the boy king's tomb at any rate.

"But I wanna go now," the little boy whined as the group turned left, heading down the secondary branch of the Valley. This section was no less busy than the others, filled with the same sorts of hurried workers and dusty entrances.

"We'll go tonight, I promise," Bill said. They were approaching a fork in the path, and they took the branch to the right. At the very end of this corridor was a tomb opening. The sand walls on either side were steep, and the sunlight glinted off the tops of the dunes, making it sparkle like a thousand diamonds had been strewn across the landscape.

"How do you find your way around?" Ava asked as they strode into the tomb, Wolf and Bill both taking out their wands. Bill took James off his shoulders, replying,

"Well, I've been here nearly every day for about four years. I suppose I just got to know the place."

"He vas glued to the map for the first few months," Wolf informed her, lighting the tip of his wand as they moved further into the tomb and the sun's rays began offering less and less help.

"So were you, Wolf," Bill said irritably. "Watch out up ahead, there's a set of steps."

"Wha's on the walls, daddy?" James asked, a few paces behind everyone else as he ran his hands them eagerly. Bill turned, shedding light on the ancient stone, and said,

"Murals. The ancient Egyptians would paint the story of the deceased person's life on the walls of their tombs to commemorate what they did… And you shouldn't touch them, James."

"Why not?" he asked, taking his hands away and skipping to catch up with his father.

"They're so old, and the oils on your hands could damage them," Bill said, ruffling his son's hair. "And we want to keep them nice so everyone else can enjoy them, right?"

"My hands aren't dirty," James insisted indignantly, holding them up as proof.

"I know, but you still shouldn't touch the walls," Bill said gently.

"There's a turn up ahead," Wolf said briskly. He was a few meters ahead of the rest of them, not having stopped to explain to James why he shouldn't deface the artifacts. The hallway made a sharp 90 degree turn to the left and then opened up into a small pillared chamber with magnificently painted walls.

"Are we the first ones here today?" Bill called to Wolf, who was nearly at the staircase at the far end of the room. He apparently had no desire to stop and explain it to the little one and Ava.

"I think so," he replied. "It's hardly eight yet."

"Can you hold up for minute then?" Bill said, gesturing for Wolf to come back.

"I've seen this place a thousand times before," Wolf said disinterestedly, disappearing down the corridor into the darkness. "Just meet me up in the burial chamber ven you're done here."

Ava was following James around the small chamber, trying to keep him from breaking everything in sight. Bill turned to them and smiled as his son crouched down beside one panel of a mural, reaching out but stopping short of actually touching it.

"Do you know what those are?" Bill said, pointing to columns of tiny pictographs that were carved into the face of the wall. James shook his head and looked up at his father expectantly. "Those are hieroglyphics."

"What's hiro-glypics?" James asked eagerly.

"That's how they wrote, with those little pictures."

"Can you read them?" Ava inquired, joining them and looking over her son's shoulder.

"Yeah, most of the time," Bill said, squinting at the figures before him. It looked like a list of some kind, maybe an inventory of the things that had been in the tomb.

"Not that you're bragging or anything," Ava teased.

"You asked and I answered," he said briskly. "It's not bragging. Anyway, you need to be able to read them to do this job, else you could end up in trouble."

"Can you show me?" James said, walking further down the wall, looking for more hieroglyphics. He found some and stooped to look at them, nodding as though he understood and agreed with whatever it was they denoted.

"You'll have to learn how to read English first, sweetie," Ava said with a smile.

"I know, but then can you teach me?" James said matter-of-factly.

"I can try," Bill said. It was the best he could do. He'd tried to teach Charlie once, and it hadn't gone well at all. Admittedly, Charlie had only wanted to learn so he could leave suggestive graffiti and not get caught, but Bill hadn't been that great of a teacher in any case.

James seemed pleased though, and started off in the direction Wolf had gone. Bill jogged to catch up, knowing that the set of steps just off the chamber was steep and seemed to come out of nowhere. He scooped his son up from behind and carried him down the stairs and through the short passageway that followed. Ava trotted along beside them, looking at the murals all the while.

After passing through the antechamber and making a sharp left, they walked into the burial chamber. At the center there was a group of four decorated support columns, arranged in a small square. Wolf was at the far end of the room, near the stone sarcophagus, looking over a piece of parchment and a pile of artifacts. James tore off across the room, heading for the pile with a wild sort of enthusiasm.

"Don't run, James!" Ava called after him. "It's dark and you might fall!"

He paid her no mind, scrambling up the steps and plopping down by Wolf's feet, clapping his hands eagerly and cackling.

"It's all right," Bill said, walking toward the two of them. "There really isn't anything left here to trip over. This room's been cleared out already."

"The storerooms haven't," Wolf said, looking up as they approached. "That's vat ve're doing today, I believe."

"Checking for curses?" Bill asked, aware that he now sounded like Ava, with all her worrying. "Or sorting artifacts?"

"A bit of both," Wolf answered, glancing down at James. The little boy was obviously trying very hard to be good and not touch the pieces in front of him, but he kept looking up at his father with a pleading sort of expression as he stretched out his hands and wiggled his fingers.

"Have those all been catalogued?" Bill asked Wolf, taking pity on his son's curiosity.

"Ya," he answered. "I don't think anyvon vould notice if he touched them."

At that, James let out a happy squeal and dove forward as though the dusty relics were a pile of elaborately wrapped birthday presents.

"Be careful with those," Bill said, kneeling down beside his son as the boy picked up a wooden figurine. "They're about three thousand years old, so they're very fragile."

"Wha's fragile?" James asked, discarding the wooden figure and grabbing a tiny ceramic vase.

"Very breakable," Ava explained as she too knelt next to him, loosening his grip on the delicate ceramic.

"I think ve should start to check the storerooms," Wolf said to Bill, who stood and withdrew his wand again. "There's four of them, so it'll take an hour or so if ve spilt up."

"Sounds like a plan," he replied, looking out over the burial chamber. "I'll take the two back here," he gestured to the two doors on opposite sides of the sarcophagus, "and you can get the ones in the main chamber."

Wolf nodded and strolled down the stairs, wand out and lit. Bill turned to Ava and James, both of whom were examining an ornate wooden dish that was covered in peeling gold leaf and bright blue paint.

"Could you keep him in here while I check the rooms?" he asked. Ava gave him a skeptical sort of look.

"Is it safe for us to be in here alone?" she said, glancing around the darkened chamber.

"You'll be fine, yeah," Bill assured her. "I'm only going into the next room; I won't be far away at all if you need me… And I was here when they went through the main chambers a few months ago, so they've gotten all the dangerous curses taken care of. As long as you're careful and keep your wand ready nothing bad'll happen."

Ava wasn't completely convinced.

"What about, you know…" Her eyes flickered to the stone coffin beside her and back again. "Mummies?"

Bill nearly laughed, but then realized she was serious.

"They're dead," he said, trying not to be condescending. "Really dead."

Ava gave a small chuckle, obviously realizing how paranoid she sounded.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I've heard so many things about ancient mummy curses and everything…"

"Told by liars and people who've never actually been here," Bill said firmly. "Just stick to this room, I'll be out in about twenty minutes."

Ava nodded, turning back to James, who had located a wooden horse and was playing with that and the discarded figurine from before. Satisfied, Bill walked to the storeroom on his right, entering it with his wand at the ready and prepared for a shock.

The air grew tight around him, and the room went pitch black. He heard a faint hissing from far back in the room, and an ominous groan from the walls. Rolling his eyes, he recognized all the tell-tale signs of an aptly named Asp Curse. If it was not removed in time, it would litter the ground with deadly Egyptian asps that were impossible to Vanish or get rid of by magical means. The only way to dispose of them was to hack them into pieces, but the sheer numbers in which they materialized made this quite impossible.

In order to counter the spell, he would have to wait a few moments more for his invasion to register within the magic of the room, but not long enough for the snakes to begin multiplying, and then say the incantation that would deactivate the Curse. Any deviation, either a delay or early application, would render the countercurse useless.

Bill wagered he had about four seconds to react. The darkness was velvety thick around him. It shrouded the light from his wand tip, making it nearly invisible at arm's length.

Now three … The groaning of the room intensified the longer he stood still, taunting him.

Then only two … A sharp hiss sounded to his immediate right, as though there was a snake dangling inches from his face.

"Aspidem evanesco!" he said firmly, just as the horrible hissing reached its zenith. A thick yellow light shot out from his wand and sliced through the darkness of the room, shattering into thousands of sliver thin strands. From its feeble light, the edges of the chamber were illuminated, half-formed shadows slithering down the walls into nothingness.

He held his breath, and for one terrifying instant, feared that he had waited that fatal fraction of a second too long. The hissing swelled into a roar, pounding deafeningly in his ears, but then tapered off and was silenced with a sound like the crack of a whip. The room brightened, and the groaning ended with a sigh of relief. Bill joined it, the air rushing from his lungs in a single whoosh as he struggled to remember how to breathe correctly. It didn't matter how many times he encountered this particular Curse, it always took a lot out of him to deflect it.

He took another step into the room, wand still held aloft. It was normal for a room as small as this one to have two or even three different layers of protection, each one worse than the last. A third step didn't reveal any other Curses, so Bill assumed the next spell was probably linked to some artifact in the room. This was also normal. Robbers, thinking they had lifted all the magical barriers, would greedily gather up the riches intended for the deceased's afterlife and then be hit with a wave of debilitating curses and jinxes, often to the point that they would die down here in the tombs.

Bill muttered another incantation, strengthening the light of his wand and looking around the small chamber. There were no skeletons littering the floor, and it was rather full. The walls were lined with large ceramic vases, stacked in twos. In the center was a gilded chest, decorated with an image of Isis, her winged arms outstretched.

"Awesome," Bill said to himself, moving towards it. That was probably the object the spell was tied to, since it would be the most appealing to a looter. He knelt beside it and gingerly touched the side, knowing that he would set off whatever curses were linked to it. He waited for a second, but nothing happened. Grasping the sides of the chest firmly, he made to pick it up, and then quickly set it down, trying to trick the curse into being triggered. Again, nothing happened.

"Maybe I have to open it," he mused, looking at the hieroglyphics on the top of the chest for a clue. They were of no use to him, bearing only the name of the pharaoh whose tomb this was, namely Thutmose IV. He had discovered that months ago when he and Wolf had cleared out the main chambers.

Gently, he tapped the lid of the chest, removing any locks or seals that had been placed on it more than three millennia ago. He heard a small click, like a bolt falling out of place. The lid was off a second later, Bill peering eagerly into the box.

It wasn't full of gold or any similar treasure, but he had expected that. Chests of this sort rarely contained jewels or precious metals. Instead, it contained the remnants of many yards of linen and wool, all folded neatly and quiet undisturbed. He gasped at his discovery. The people who had folded these lengths of fabric and packed them away were long gone. He, Bill Weasley, was the first person to see them in three thousand years. The colors were still bright: the linen was a crisp white, and the wool only slightly damaged by moths.

For a second, he was overcome with the desire to reach out and touch the linen, but restrained himself. These lengths of cloth were ancient, and even though they looked sturdy laying there in the chest, he knew they would most likely disintegrate at his touch. He'd have to wait for the proper Wizards, the ones who worked up at the museum with the Muggles, to examine and catalog them before he'd even be allowed to look at them again.

An added bonus, which took slightly longer to register, was the fact that there had been only one curse to remove. Sure, it had been one of his least favorites, but one terrible one was still better to him than a bunch of lesser annoyances.

"Daddy?"

The sound of his son's voice made him jump, and he let out a strangled sort of gasp as he turned to the door of the room.

"You've got to stay out of here, James," he said quickly, shakily pointing his wand to the entrance. The ray of light showed his son's feet, shuffling around at the door. Ava's feet appeared behind his, and Bill tipped his wand up so he could see their faces.

"Why?" James asked cheerily, making to come in anyway. Ava snatched him up as Bill replied in a firm voice,

"Daddy's not done taking all the curses off, and he doesn't want you to get hurt."

"Can I come in when you're done?" James pestered, clutched tight in his mother's arms. Ava was paler than he had ever seen her, obviously believing her son had just narrowly avoided Death.

"We'll see," Bill said, trying to calm himself. He was fairly certain this room was clear, but he didn't want his son to be the one to prove that it wasn't. "Just stay out there with mommy, okay?"

"Okay!"

James wriggled out of his mother's arms and sat right in front of the door, as though his father was an enthralling television show. Ava looked to Bill, and he nodded. The little boy was far enough away to be safe. Ava, however, sat down behind her son and pulled him into her lap, no doubt holding on to him as tight as she possibly could.

Taking deep breaths, Bill turned back to the chest and looked into it one last time. He knew that the longer the lid remained open, the more damaged the fabric became. He closed it almost wistfully, tapping it once again to restore the lock. He made a mental note to tell Wolf about the fabric; it was the sort of thing he'd be interested in.

Quickly, he began checking all the vases, making sure they wouldn't trigger a Curse. They probably wouldn't, since Curses were usually only attached to objects of value, but it would be on Bill's head if he didn't check all of them and one of them turned out to be a trigger. He walked the edges of the room, tapping each vase with his wand as he said a general-purpose countercurse, and then picking it up to see if it would set something off. Just as he suspected, none of the vases triggered anything.

"If you'd like, you can come in here now," he said after making one last sweep of the small chamber. James squealed and bounced into the room. "Try to be careful, and don't touch anything," Bill added hastily when he saw the boy run straight for the chest. Ava followed cautiously, her wand drawn.

"I thought you said it was okay to come in," she said, reaching down to keep James from touching the artifacts.

"It's safe for now," Bill explained. "But this stuff hasn't been catalogued yet, and it's very fragile. I wouldn't want any of it to get broken. That can trigger curses, too, because looters wouldn't have been very careful, and the ancient Wizards weren't forgiving."

"What if I didn't break anything?" James asked, still trying to get at the box. "Could I touch it then?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Bill said sternly. "Just to be safe."

The little boy started pouting again, and declared the room "boring" before stomping out to the main burial chamber. Ava gave Bill an apologetic sort of look and followed after James.

"I just have to check the other room, then I'll check back with you," Bill said, striding across the burial chamber. His son had settled down by the pile of artifacts from before, continuing whatever game he'd concocted in his father's absence. Ava sat on the stone sarcophagus to watch him, which made Bill wince. Thutmose IV was still inside, and probably didn't fancy having a strange woman using his coffin as a chair. He chose not to say anything about it, though.

The second storeroom was much like the first. Another Asp Curse, and a similar collection of ceramic vases. There was no chest in this one, however, but a slightly less dusty patch on the floor told him that there had been at some earlier point. Tombs were no strangers to looters and other unscrupulous characters, so this wasn't surprising. It only took Bill five minutes to sweep through this room, and then he rejoined Ava and James by the sarcophagus to wait for Wolf.

By now, the tomb was bustling with other Curse Breakers and the maintenance crew. Some of his co-workers fawned over James after finding out that he was the son of the illustrious Bill Weasley, one of the best Curse Breakers Gringotts ever employed. The little boy was pleased with the attention, and enjoyed hearing the stories the older men and women had to tell about all the discoveries his father and Wolf had made, the treasures they had found.

It wasn't until well after noon that they were able to get back to the surface. The sunlight reflecting off the near-white sand was blinding after being underground for hours, and everyone shaded their eyes against the sun as they emerged, all feeling a little bit like moles. They headed back to base camp, as both Wolf and Bill had neglected to check which tomb they'd been assigned to for the afternoon shift.

"We'll get something to eat while we're up here," Bill assured James, who was starving since he had refused to eat breakfast that morning.

He set the two of them up with something to eat, and then excused himself to go talk with Mr. Hosni. In the rush of the morning's discoveries, he'd forgotten that he was supposed to be asking for a transfer while he was here. It filled him with an pungent mix of sadness and regret, but putting it off wasn't going to make the inevitable task any easier.

Mr. Hosni was standing just outside the tent, talking with one of the visiting Muggle professors. Universities from far and wide always wanted to send groups of so-called "archaeologists" to dig up the Valley, and the mingling between them and the Curse Breakers had to be closely monitored. Bill waited until the professor turned away before approaching his boss.

"Ah, Weasley!" Mr. Hosni said, gesturing grandly. "How was your first day back?"

"Amazing," Bill replied heartily. "You got a lot cleared out while I was away, the burial chamber was still unsorted when I left."

"Wolfgang organized most of that," Mr. Hosni said dismissively. "I had nothing to do with it really."

"Oh… Well, I need to talk to you about something," Bill began slowly.

"Does it involve that little boy you brought along today?"

"Yeah," he said with a small smile. "You see, he's my son. I only found out about him when I went back this time; his mother's been taking care of him all by herself this whole time…" He gestured to Ava, who was sitting in the tent with James on her lap, helping him eat without getting food all down his front.

"I see," Mr. Hosni said evenly.

"And I, well I promised them I'd be there for them now," he continued. "But she can't come to live with me here in Egypt, so…" His voice trailed off.

"So what?" Mr. Hosni prompted, arms crossed.

"So I'm going to give my notice," Bill said quietly.

"You're quitting?"

"… Yes."

Mr. Hosni sighed as he put his face in his hands and rubbed his temples. Bill looked away, unable to meet his boss's eyes. It was a good two minutes before anyone broke the silence.

"I assume you'll be putting in an application at Gringotts," Mr. Hosni said.

"Yeah, it's close to where they live," Bill replied, digging a hole in the sand with his boot.

"Well, I'll put a good word in for you," Mr. Hosni said, clapping Bill on the shoulder. "How long are you staying?"

"About a month… I have to sell my apartment and get things wrapped up here."

"All right. I'll have to take you off the schedule in two weeks. It's standard procedure, nothing against you personally."

"I understand," Bill said quietly. He had hardly expected to be kept on until his last day, but it still hurt to hear it. He nodded once more and turned to join Ava, James, and Wolf in the tent.

"It was nice working with you, Weasley," Mr. Hosni said gruffly. Emoting had never been his strong point.

"Thanks," he said sadly. "It was great working with you too."

He was nearly out of range when he heard his boss call after him,

"And good luck with your little one."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Only two chapters left, whoo!_

_Reviews are love._


	15. A Proposition

**Warnings:** mushy stuff

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing

* * *

_A Proposition_

The next two weeks were some of the best in Bill's entire life. He brought Ava and James to the tombs with him every day, where they would spend the morning working in one tomb and visiting another in the afternoon. James especially liked Tutankhaumn's, and had to be practically pried out of it at the end of the day.

Word spread quickly, however, that Bill would be going back to England soon. At first, he was worried that the rest of his team would be angry and resentful towards Ava and James. Perhaps they would think it was their fault that he was leaving, which, Bill had to admit, was actually true.

Luckily, his team did nothing of the sort. On the contrary, they were glad to have Bill Weasley's son join them, and his girlfriend wasn't so bad either. It became a sort of contest as to who could impress the little boy the most, one which Wolf usually won. James always left the tombs gushing about what he had learned that day and eager to go back again on the next.

Bill's last day was marked with bittersweet pangs and quite a few tears.

"You had better come back to visit, or I vill hunt you down and kill you" Wolf warned him, quite serious. They had taken their lunch break, and were sitting at a table in the makeshift tent that was base camp. James was doing the rounds of all the other Curse Breakers as they said their good-byes, while Ava was sitting next to Bill, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Of course I will," he assured his friend. "Besides, I'm not leaving right yet. I have a few more weeks here in Egypt."

"And make sure you tell us ven something important happens," he said.

"I will," Bill said, then added with a laugh, "For Merlin's sake, you sound like my mum."

"Maybe your mum has the right idea about things," Wolf retorted, smirking.

Bill rolled his eyes and instead of replying he watched his son run around outside the tent, heaving handfuls of sand at Moleson, another Curse Breaker, as they both laughed.

"Should he be doing that?" Bill asked Ava. "Do we think it's okay for him to chuck sand at people?" He had gotten into the habit of checking with her about what manners James was supposed to be learning. Ava picked her head up off Bill's shoulder, surveyed her son for a few seconds, then shrugged.

"Yeah, he's fine," she said lazily, putting her head down again. "It doesn't look like he's doing any harm."

Bill couldn't help being more than a little sad when he left the Valley that day. He knew he'd be coming back eventually, at least for a visit if not actually to work there again, but it still stung. This had been his life, everything he'd ever wanted and worked for; to leave it all behind, it just felt like such a waste. He wondered if Ava had gone through the same thing when she stopped dancing, and was tempted to ask her. In the end, though, he decided against it.

It was enough that he had made her go through it once; she didn't need to do it again.

* * *

"Daddy, daddy! Get up!"

Bill lazily opened one eye. James was standing beside his bed, gripping the edge of the mattress and bouncing up and down. Seeing that his father was awake, the little boy grinned and heaved himself up onto the bed.

Beside him, Ava stirred. Her arm was draped over Bill's midsection, and she had her face buried in his hair.

"Mummy, wake up!" James insisted, clambering over his father to get to her. She propped herself up on one elbow, and rubbed her eyes before giving him a smile.

"What did we tell you about coming in without knocking?" she said, sitting up properly and pulling him into her lap. Bill, now freed from her grasp, flopped back onto the pillows and glanced up at the two of them. The knocking rule had been imposed two nights ago, when James had barged in on Ava and Bill's "quiet time" and been puzzled about what his mummy and daddy were doing.

"I did knock," James informed them, still grinning. "But you didn't say anything, so I came in."

Bill chuckled. This pretty much defeated the purpose of knocking.

"Are you getting up now?" James pestered, pulling eagerly on his father's arm. "We're gonna be late!"

"All right, we're getting up," Ava said. Today was one their last days in Egypt, and Bill had promised to take them up to Giza to see the pyramids and the Sphinx. He wanted to see them at sunrise, and thus they had to get up at an ungodly hour to make their 5:20 Portkey. Bill glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was barely 4:00.

Ava was already out of bed. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned before heading to her suitcase to pick out something to wear. Bill stayed right where he was, which distressed James.

"Dad-dy," he whined, tugging again at his father's arm. "You has to get up now."

Sighing, Bill sat up. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, as though this would somehow make him more alert. Getting up any time before 6:00 was always difficult for him.

"Do you want to get your shower first, or should I?" Ava asked, looking over her shoulder at him. He blinked, and said,

"What?"

She repeated her question as James giggled.

"You can go first, I need something to wake me up," Bill replied slowly, easing his way out of bed. He stood up and headed to the kitchen. Once there, he started to make some tea, flicking his wand this way and that to fetch the kettle, fill it with water, and set it on the stove to boil. James had followed after him, and was now sitting at the table, swinging his legs back and forth. Bill sat next to him, saying,

"Are excited about today?"

"Yes!" he shrieked happily, clapping his hands. "We get to see the big triangles!"

"Pyramids, James," Bill corrected. "They're called pyramids."

"Tha's what I said."

It was far too early for Bill to get into an argument, especially with his three year old son, so instead he asked,

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Eggs," James answered simply. That was his answer just about every morning, but occasionally it was, "Scramm'ld eggs."

"All right," Bill said, rising and Summoning a pan to put on the stove beside the tea kettle. "Do you think mummy would like some too?"

"Yes."

Bill was nearly done with the eggs when James asked him a question.

"Daddy, when we get back home, are you going to live with me and mummy?"

"I … I hadn't thought about it," Bill replied truthfully. Where was he going to live? A small part of him had imagined staying at the Burrow, but that was never going to happen. His parents wouldn't let him, and he didn't want to at any rate.

"I think mummy wants you to," James informed him.

"Really? When did she say that?"

"I don't know," the little boy said, shrugging. "I jus' think she does."

Bill didn't quite know how to take this since yesterday James had been under the impression that his mother wanted a pet rock and had even run out to the front garden to find one for her.

"Do _you_ want me to live with you guys?" he asked, scooping the finished eggs out of the pan and presenting them to his son. As James picked up his fork, he beamed and said,

"Yes! Then you could be with us all the time, like a real dad!"

This statement, while he knew James had meant it to be a good thing, was like a slap in the face. Luckily, he didn't have to think of a reply because Ava came into the kitchen then, fresh from her shower. She ruffled James's hair as she past him, and accepted a plate of eggs from Bill.

"I never thought I'd get to see the pyramids," she said, obviously excited even though her tone was calm. Bill was happy for the change of subject, and said,

"You'll be glad you did. It's something you'll never forget."

"Why'd we have to get up so early, though?" she asked as Bill sat down with his own breakfast.

"You have to see them at sunrise, trust me," he said. They were impressive any time of the day, but doubly so at sunrise and sunset. "It'll be worth it."

"I hope you're right," Ava said, yawning again.

Bill smiled into his plate. He was sure that the pyramids themselves would be enough compensation for getting up at this ungodly hour, but he had another plan for getting there so early. It was one he had been formulating ever since he'd discovered James was his son, one that he had been slowly and surely nudging forward for the past month and a half.

He was going to propose to Ava.

* * *

By 5:30, Bill, Ava and James found themselves standing at the beginning of the trail that would take them to the pyramids and the Sphinx. James was intrigued by the notion of this half lion, half man creature carved out of stone, and ran ahead of his parents so many times that his mother considered putting a Charm on him so that he would be unable to go more than five feet away from her.

"James William!" she yelled after him for the umpteenth time that morning. "Get back here!"

The little boy cackled and made to run further away, but Bill jogged after him and scooped him up onto his shoulders. James squawked about this, but at the sight before him, he fell silent.

They had arrived. In front of them stood the Pyramids, their sharp forms outlined in the dim morning light. Beyond them, the dwarfed shape of the Sphinx was just visible. The road they had taken approached the monuments from the west, so it was only a matter of minutes before the sun rose and the beauty intensified.

James was bouncing up and down excitedly, pointing and mouthing soundlessly.

"Look!" he finally managed to get out, clapping his hands with delight. Bill nodded, grinning, and looked sideways at Ava. Her eyes were wider than he had ever seen them, and she was breathing heavily.

"My god, Bill," she gasped. "It's gorgeous."

"Gorgeous" was far from an adequate description, but it would have to suffice until someone invented an adjective just for this kind of moment.

"We'll watch from here," Bill said. They stood in a small clump, waiting anxiously.

The sun moved at a sluggish pace, but once it broke the horizon, Ava gasped. The pyramids and Sphinx became black silhouettes, impressive even at this distance, and the sky was like a watercolor painting of the most beautiful blues and rosy pinks and russet reds imaginable. For a few minutes, it seemed as though there was nothing else in the entire world except for the three of them there on the sand dune and the ancient beauty before them. Even James, who was talkative to the point of exasperation, was absolutely quiet.

It was Bill who spoke first.

"Who wants to get closer?"

He was surprised that James didn't throw himself off his shoulders. The little boy shrieked and pointed excitedly to the pyramids. Ava grinned, and set off down the trail even before Bill did.

It took about ten minutes to reach them, and then they stood at the foot of the behemoth structures, craning their necks to see the tops. There were only a few other people there, all of whom seemed unconcerned with Bill's tiny family.

He led Ava and James to the base of the Great Pyramid.

"Do you feel like climbing it?" he asked.

"Yes!" James squealed, and before anyone could stop him, he began clambering up the side. Ava was slightly more cautious, choosing to follow Bill rather than pick her own way up the cliff like monument. It would be a long way to fall.

For a while, James was in the lead, but he tired quickly. As the granite blocks were all taller than he was, it was much harder for him to climb than it was for his parents. About a quarter of the way up, he sat down and began to complain that his hands hurt from the roughness of the rock, and refused to go anymore on his own. Taking pity on him, Bill picked him up and placed him on his shoulders, practically doubling his own burden. Ava, for her part, remained quiet and hiked along. It was as though she enjoyed this exertion, the feeling of the sweat beading on her forehead a reminder of what it was to truly live. She climbed beside Bill now, as opposed to behind him, and smiled every time he glanced her way.

Reaching the top of the pyramid was a cathartic experience. James practically leapt off his father's shoulders, and began declaring that he was "King of the Mountain." As he bounced around, fighting off imaginary enemies, Bill turned to Ava, panting slightly, and grinned.

She was looking out to the east, towards the majestic Sphinx, and Bill knew that she would never again look quite so beautiful as she did now, hand shielding her eyes from the early morning sunlight which nearly silhouetted her against the watercolor sky. He walked behind her and placed a kiss on her neck.

"What do you think?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"It's … perfect," she replied, smiling up at him.

"Good," Bill said, and he took his hands away to reach into his pocket for something. She looked at him quizzically, eyebrow raised.

It was now or never.

"I have a question for you," he began, taking out a small velvet box. He saw her eyes widen, and her hand flew to her mouth as he sank down on one knee. Opening the box, and grinning at her sudden gasp, he asked,

"Will you marry me?"

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Bill is the most romantic man ever, I believe. Too bad he's fictional. D:_

_Reviews are love._


	16. Moving Day

**Warnings:** none

**Disclaimer:** Just borrowing.

* * *

_Chapter 16 – Moving Day_

Bill looked around his nearly empty flat and sighed. The remaining boxes contained his books and most of the dishes, the kinds of things he would be taking with him when he went back to England. The rest had been either sold or Shrunken and shipped already. Most of the artifacts he'd collected over the years he'd given to Wolf, but he kept some of his favorites for himself. Ava had told him her apartment could use a little "flair."

Sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting the patterns made by the swirling dust motes. It was beautiful in an eerie sort of way. Bill only had a few more minutes before he had to leave for the Portkey.

He thought back on everything that he'd done here. His work had been what he lived for, the promise of new discoveries and potential danger a surefire wake-up call every morning. He thought that he had made a large number or friends, but it was very telling that the only one who showed up to wish him well was Wolf. Pam had also stopped by, but Bill had refused to answer the door. It was childish, he knew, but much better than anything that would have come from seeing her in.

His mind's eye wandered, leaving his apartment and crossing the sands to the ancient Valley, and then up the Nile to the pyramids. It would be months, probably years, before he would ever get to see them again. The impressive sights he had grown accustomed to seeing every day would fade in his memory, and he would be stuck with more mundane things: paved roads, uniform row houses, and hundreds of ordinary, unremarkable people. The danger and thrill he had lived for would be gone, and would instead be replaced by the decision of what boring tie he should wear to his boring work, or the unbelievably non-strenuous task of unscrewing a particularly stubborn lid.

Could he live like that? After everything he had done, all the wondrous things he had seen, could he settle down and live like an ordinary citizen? Work at a bank, come home at the same time every evening, do the same sort of thing that his own father had done? Would his only reward be the monthly paycheck, and would he settle into a mind numbing routine of silent desperation?

"Daddy?"

Bill turned. James was standing in the doorway, his little auburn head peeking around the frame with a smile. Ava was behind him, luggage over her shoulder and engagement ring sparkling on her finger she reached down to ruffle her son's hair.

"What is it?" Bill asked, gesturing for them to come in. James bounded into the room, sending the dust motes into a furious frenzy. He jumped into his father's arms as the man knelt, and replied,

"We has to go now."

Bill stood up, still holding James, and turned to Ava. She smiled at him.

"Are you ready?" she asked, and he suspected she meant more than just in terms of packing. Taking a deep breath, he said,

"Yes."

With James in his arms, he strode confidently from the apartment. Yes, he was giving up a huge part of his life by leaving Egypt, but it would be in exchange for something much better: a family of his own. There was nothing in the world that would stop him from taking care of his son.

As he turned to close the door, he risked a final glance at the apartment. It was lonely and bare, as though it had been wiped clean. It wouldn't always be that way, though. Someone new would come along and fix it up, make it their own as Bill had done for the past four years. Its story wasn't really over.

Neither was Bill's. He had many more pages left to fill, and there was no reason to dread what would come next. This was just a small pause, a page break. As he closed one door, another opened, and it was one that he could not wait to walk through.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Well, it's done. I want to thank everyone who read and enjoyed and reviewed; all the comments I received were truly and greatly appreciated. There will be a sequel, but it's still in the planning stages (I can't think of a plot, which is kind of important). Hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_Reviews are love._


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